The Seventh Horcrux
by IAMGinny
Summary: What if Voldemort found out Harrry was a Horcrux when he possessed him in Ministry in OotP? He couldn't destroy his own Horcrux now could he? So he'd just have to turn Harry Potter . . . NO SLASH! Dark-ish!Harry. Sorry, i had to repost! on HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

The Seventh Horcrux

A Harry Potter FanFiction

By I-AmGinny

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (one can only wish) or any of the beginning scenes that I used because I wanted to stay true to the book as possible (you know, even if I am completely changing the whole outcome of the series in this one story).

"LIAR!" Bellatrix shrieked. This could not be happening! The filthy Potter brat had smashed the prophecy. The Dark Lord would be livid. She knew the filthy half-blood behind the fountain was telling the truth, but she was desperate. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME—Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"

The wretched boy laughed and his empty hand came into view from behind the one-eared goblin statue, taunting her. "Nothing there!" Potter shouted, "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that—"

"No!" Bellatrix screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying—MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED—DO NOT PUNISH ME—"

"Don't waste your breath!" Potter yelled, there was pain in his voice. "He can't hear you from here!" suddenly Bellatrix felt her Dark Mark burn on her forearm.

Her master was here . . .

"Can't I, Potter?"

Harry opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the red, slit-pupiled eyes of Lord Voldemort. His wand was pointed at Harry's chest. "So you smashed my prophecy?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice. His pitiless eyes searched Harry's face. "No, Bella, he is not lying . . . I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind . . . Months of preparation . . . months of effort . . . and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again . . . ."

Bellatrix threw herself at Voldemort's feet and began to beg for forgiveness. Harry wasn't listening, all he could do was stare at Voldemort and the look of mild disgust on his face as he watched Bellatrix grovel at his feet. "Be quiet, Bella. I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?"

Bellatrix began to say something, but was cut off as Voldemort turned his attention to Harry and spoke. "I have nothing more to say to you, Potter. You have irked me far too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry couldn't move. He was frozen to the spot in fear, his wand grasped uselessly in his hand at his side. The headless statue sprung alive and placed itself between Harry and Voldemort, blocking the spell.

"What—?" Voldemort gasped, then looked around the atrium. His eyes fell on something behind Harry and glared at it with loathing. Harry turned his head and saw Dumbledore standing behind him at the golden gates of the lift. "Dumbledore!" Voldemort growled.

The battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore commenced. The statue moved in front of Harry every time he moved, so he couldn't really see much of the duel. But he felt the magic wash over him in waves as the two immensely powerful wizards dueled.

A serpent of fire wrapped around Voldemort, shield and all, and then released him. Voldemort turned furiously toward Dumbledore, hissing. Then he vanished.

He reappeared and they locked in combat once more. Water rose from the fountain, trapping Voldemort in a pool of molten glass, and for a moment he was just a dark, obscured figure. Than he was gone once more.

"MASTER!" Bellatrix screamed.

It was over! Harry made to run out from behind the headless statue, but Dumbledore yelled at him not to. Why? Harry wondered. They had won, Voldemort was gone.

Then Harry's head exploded in pain. He had to be dead, because no living creature could endure such pain. Harry was locked in the coils of a pitiless creature with slitted red eyes. There was no escape. He didn't know where he was anymore, all he knew was pain. He barely felt the creature use his mouth to speak.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . ."

Blinded and surely dying, Harry was gone. He couldn't fight anymore. Voldemort was too strong. He wanted to die at that point, just so that the pain would go away. At least he'd see Sirius again. The creature recoiled slightly at that, but held firm.

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy . . . He has already surrendered to me. He accepts his fate . . ."

Harry had a sudden thought. It pushed its way through to the forefront of his mind, overwhelming Voldemort and himself both. It was his second year at Hogwarts. He was speaking Parseltongue to open the chamber of secrets. Harry felt Voldemort's shock wash over him, temporarily blocking the pain. And then he heard Voldemort whisper the three words that would forever change his life.

"The Seventh Horcrux."

Harry felt Voldemort withdraw from his mind. He shivered, the floor beneath him felt like ice. He was lying facedown on the wooden floor. His vision was fuzzy, his glasses were lying next to the headless statue's foot. He raised his head, but found he was dizzy, so he laid his burning forehead back down on the cool hardwood floor.

He was turned gently over and the rested against Dumbledore's arm, which circled his shoulders. He was too weak to resist, even if he'd wanted to. "Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly. Harry felt he'd be sick if he tried to speak, so he just nodded. He didn't notice the guilty look Dumbledore was giving him. "What's a horcrux?" harry asked with a sudden burst of strength.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out before you were ready." Dumbledore said, looking even guiltier now.

"Professor? What do you mean?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Dumbledore then rose his wand to the trembling boy's temple. Harry began struggling, confused and scared. Dumbledore held him tighter, forcing Harry to be still. Harry gave him a terrified, confused look. Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye and spoke the spell.

"Obliv—"

"Get away from him!" an angry voice growled and suddenly Dumbledore was thrown across the atrium. Shocked and betrayed, Harry trembled worse than ever. Dumbledore had tried to Obliviate him. Then another pair of arms wrapped around him and a quiet voice said, "It's alright, Harry."

Harry jerked in the person's arms. It was Voldemort. Oh, God, it was Voldemort. Voldemort muttered an unfamiliar spell and Harry felt himself quickly losing consciousness. The last thing he heard was Voldemort.

"Come, Bella. I think it is time we went home."

Cornelius Fudge blundered from the lift into the Ministry's atrium. Wizards and Witches from several departments followed him. And they all saw a pale, snake faced man holding a weakly struggling Harry Potter in his arms. Voldemort took out his wand and said something. There was no flash of green light, or even red light. Just the loud, quick exhalation from the Boy Who Lived as he went limp in his enemy's arms and his eyes fluttered closed.

Voldemort seem to notice the Ministry workers for the first time, he sneered at them before turning to a dark-haired woman and again spoke in a quiet voice. She nodded vigorously before the man clamped onto her arm and then disapparated, taking an unconscious Harry Potter with them.

Fudge turned to see the Atrium in shambles. Then his eyes latched onto a disheveled Dumbledore, who was kneeling next to the fountain. Clutching a pair of round, black framed glasses with broken lenses as if they were a lifeline.

So . . . that was my first chapter! If you liked it (which I hope you did) then review. If you didn't . . . review anyway. Please be gentle, this is my first fanfic . Anyway, I'll try to update soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, only J.K. Rowling has that privilege

Harry came around slowly, as if rising through a fog. He could feel warm, soft sheets laid over him and soft pillows cradling his head. But something was wrong. The sheets were almost too comfortable, and certainly not the sheets in the Hospital Wing or in his bed at Hogwarts. The pillows were too fluffy.

And then he remembered.

He and some of the DA had snuck into the Ministry. Death Eaters attacked. He smashed the Prophecy. Sirius . . . Oh, God. Sirius was dead. Dumbledore and Voldemort fought. Voldemort tried to possess him. Dumbledore . . .

Oh, God. He tried to Obliviate me! And Voldemort saved me. Harry's memory was hazy after Voldemort stopped Dumbledore from erasing his memory. But why had Dumbledore done it? What was a horcrux? He'd said he didn't want me to find out till I was ready . . .

Ready for what? And where the hell was he? He had an idea, but he desperately hoped he was wrong. He wasn't. Harry opened his eyes and sat up slowly. The room was unfamiliar . . . and just oozed Slytherin. Everything in the large room was silver, green, or black. The bedspread was dark green with silver thread running through it. All of the woodwork in the room was ebony. The only thing in the room that wasn't Slytherin colored was the merrily roaring fire in the black stoned fireplace.

Harry could safely assume Voldemort had kidnapped him. Again. So what was so important that he was still alive and unharmed? If he'd woken up in cellar or something he would've guessed that Voldemort wanted to torture him before killing him. But this room—though a bit to Slytherin for his taste—was too nice for a kidnapped prisoner.

Then again who knew what went through Voldemort's mind? And nice room or not, he was still a prisoner. He could hardly see Voldemort letting him go. This thought was reinforced when he felt something burn his neck and chest.

Harry looked down and saw that a silver locket hung around his neck. The locket was simple, with jewels inlaid on the front in the shape of a serpentine S. The locket was cold when he touched it with his fingers, but it still burned his neck and chest, though it left no mark.

He attempted to remove it, but found that the icy burning worsened almost unbearably if he tried to pull it over his head. He let go of it with a yelp as it burned his fingers.

"You can't remove it, Potter. I've charmed it so that only I can take it off." Voldemort said from the doorway. Harry's head shot up in surprise. Voldemort smiled coldly at him.

"And what exactly is the point of charming a necklace so I can't take it off?" Harry growled.

"There are many uses. I've also charmed it so I'll know where you are at all times. It prevents you from leaving the manor without my permission. It also renders you incapable to perform Occlumency, not that I would have much trouble breaking into your poorly guarded mind anyway. It alerts me if you are having thoughts of escape. These are just a few of the many things I've charmed it to do. I've covered all of the bases, Harry. There will be no escape for you."

"And what would happen if I tried?" Harry asked.

"I would know you were thinking of escape before you tried." Voldemort sneered.

"Humor me."

"You really are a Gryffindor through and through aren't you?" he sighed. "Well, if you actually managed to get outside the manor walls, the wards I've placed would knock you unconscious and I would simply bring you back here."

Harry thought for a moment. Voldemort thought he'd covered all of the bases, but maybe there was one he hadn't . . .

Voldemort suddenly laughed. "Your little house elf friend can't save you, Harry. I've put up wards against wandless magic like the elf's. He couldn't get in, and he couldn't get you out. But it seems you have more of me in you then I thought."

Harry gaped. How had he known he was thinking about Dobby? How did he even know about Dobby? He quickly recovered. "I'm nothing like you, Voldemort."

"Really? So then we didn't just have that entire conversation in Parseltongue?" Voldemort said. His smile widened at Harry's bemused look. Then his eyes widened. "No . . . We—we didn't."

"Yes. We did. You just didn't realize it. Just like you didn't realize it when you told that snake not to attack the poor Finch-Fletchley boy in your second year." Voldemort's smile grew even more as Harry blanched.

"How did you know that?"

"I know more than you might think, Harry. I examined your memories while you slept. I know that you and the mudblood went back in time to save your dear godfather Sirius from the dementor's kiss. I now know that our wands have twin cores. I know you taught Hogwarts students Defense Against the Dark Arts when the woman Umbridge refused to. And I agree with you, she does indeed resemble a toad. I know that you destroyed one of my horcruxes with a basilisk fang in the Chamber of Secrets." Voldemort's smile was gone, replaced by cold anger.

"But of course, I will not punish you for things you did under the impression that Dumbledore had your best interests at heart." He continued. He noticed that Harry's eyes darkened at the mention of Dumbledore. He was pleased with that fact; it would be easier to turn the boy if he hated the Light's leader.

"Dumbledore does have my best interests at heart." Harry growl anyway.

"Does he, Harry? He wouldn't even look at you this entire year. He knew you and Severus don't get along, and yet he let Snape see your memories, your darkest thoughts, while he tried to teach you Occlumency. He expects you to fight me someday, does he not? And yet he doesn't tell you what you need to know to defeat me. In fact, he purposely keeps you uninformed. If he thought of you as anything more than a tool to achieve his goals, wouldn't he strive to keep you informed? To protect you? And yet he allows you to go on your hazardous little adventures and only helps when it benefits him. You're nothing more than a very powerful tool to him, and he uses you."

"That's not true." Harry scowled. He had been having those same dark thoughts all year.

"It is. Think about it Harry, he let an eleven year old face me. Even in my weakened state you would have died that night if not for your mother's protection. He let you fight a horcrux and basilisk at twelve. You had to save yourself from nearly one hundred dementor's at thirteen. You faced a dragon, mermaids, and me fully back to power at fourteen with no help from him whatsoever. And lastly, at the Ministry, I possessed you and he did nothing to stop it. He could have shielded you from my attack. He didn't.

"And then he sends you back to be abused by your relatives every summer. Did he care that you slept in a cupboard for ten years? Did he ever mention it, even in passing?"

"He had his reasons." Harry said, but he said it quietly. Almost doubtfully.

Voldemort ignored him. "And then he'd most likely have wanted you to hunt down my other horcruxes and destroy them too. And once you had, Potter—if I hadn't killed you in the process—do you know what he would have wanted you to do?"

"What?" Harry asked warily.

"He would have wanted you to kill yourself, of course."

Hey, so that was my second chapter! If you liked it—review (please?). If you didn't, please review anyway and tell me how I can improve. I need reviews! If I'm talking to air right now, then hello air! (I'm aware I have problems) p.s. I'm putting up Christmas decorations today! Yay!

p.s.(x2) I'll update soon as soon as possible


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter . . . I'm not done harassing J.K. Rowling yet (Mwahahaha)

Harry sat on his—no, Voldemort's—bed. Nothing here was his, and he wasn't planning on staying long enough for it to become his. Voldemort was so sure he'd covered all of the bases, but there had to be a loop-hole. God, what he wouldn't do to have Hermione with him. Well, Hermione's brain anyway. He wouldn't want Hermione in this hell.

Harry tried to ignore what Voldemort had said about Dumbledore. He really did. But any time he wasn't keeping up a constant babble in his head, he'd here those words. "He would have wanted you to kill yourself, of course." No, Dumbledore wouldn't do that. He cared about 't he? If he did, it didn't stop him from trying to Obliviate you, said a small voice in his head.

"Something on your mind, Potter?" a voice drawled, pulling Harry from his thoughts. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest was one person Harry thought he wanted to see about as much as Voldemort. Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?" Harry asked incredulously.

Malfoy sneered. "Well, considering you're in my house, I suppose I could ask you the same question."

"I'm in your house?" Harry couldn't believe it. Why must everything happen to him? He had to put up with Voldemort's mind games and now Malfoy's attitude.

"That is what I just said, isn't it, Potty? The Dark Lord suggests you go to bed, as your mindless internal babbling is distracting him. He said if you don't shut up he'll personally force a sleeping draught down your throat." Malfoy smirked like he would enjoy watching that.

"He also told me to tell you that your mudblood friend's brain would do you no good in escaping. He's smarter than a fifteen year old who barely qualifies as a witch in the first place, with her filthy blood."

"Hermione might be muggle-born, but she's a damn good witch. And even if she wasn't, she'd have a reason. You're pureblooded Malfoy, so what's your excuse for being a complete idiot and making an ass of yourself, then?" Harry growled back.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and his face when a pale pink. "You should think before you talk, Potter. This isn't Hogwarts. There's no muggle-loving Headmaster to protect you here. The Dark Lord may not want you dead anymore, but that doesn't mean someone can put you in your damn place."

"And who's going to do that, Malfoy? You? Your dear aunt told me that you have to enjoy causing pain, you have to want it. You know what I think, Malfoy? I think you're a slimy little git who's been living off of his daddy's ability to cause fear. But you know what, Malfoy? Your father doesn't scare me, and you sure as hell don't either. I don't think you could hate someone enough to torture them, Draco. Because you've always gotten everything you want. You're spoiled rotten. So go ahead Draco, try to "Crucio" me, I can't fight back. But I don't think you hate me enough to pull it off." Harry murmured as he got of the bed and walked toward Malfoy.

Harry didn't know what he was doing. He usually would have just told the smarmy git to get the hell out of the room, but something in Harry had wanted to intimidate Malfoy. To scare the living hell out of him.

Draco raised his wand, his hand shaking sharply. "Crucio!"

Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Draco lowered his wand, blushing brighter than harry had thought possible for the pale boy opposite of him. Harry's contempt was plain on his face. He got a cruel sense of satisfaction from the look of sudden fear in Malfoy's eyes. He could get back at Malfoy for annoying him more than Harry would have thought possible in the past five years. If he could just get his hand on Draco's wand . . .

Wait, what the hell was he thinking? Sure he hated Malfoy, but he didn't want to hurt him. Well, maybe a good punch in the mouth, but not . . . torture him. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. But you tried to torture Bellatrix Lestrange, the cold voice in the back of his head whispered. She killed Sirius! He retorted. But that wasn't an excuse. He had used an Unforgivable on another human being (by the loosest of definitions). His thoughts were cut off once again as his scar began to burn. Not right now, please. He thought as Voldemort walked into the room.

He stared coolly at the scene of Draco backed up against a wall with Harry stand about a foot away, glaring daggers at Draco. Both boys looked his way as he entered the room. The Malfoy boy instantly dropped to his knees with a whispered "My Lord," and Harry glanced at him disgust before meeting Voldemort's red gaze full on.

Voldemort smirked. "Crucio!"

Harry's knees buckled and he cried out as the Cruciatus Curse hit him. He rolled on the floor screaming as white hot knives stabbed every inch of him, from the inside and out. But his head was the worst. Just like in the graveyard over a year before, it seemed that his head was splitting along the scar. Just as his vision was starting to darken the curse was lifted. He was left lying on the floor gasping as Voldemort turned him over with his foot and levitated him onto the bed.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Voldemort muttered, pointing his wand over his shoulder at Harry as he turned to Draco. He gestured for him to rise from his kneeling position, where he'd watched the whole episode play out. He got wearily up, his gaze lingering on Harry for a moment before finding and settling on his feet.

"That, Draco, was the correct way to cast the Cruciatus Curse. Harry is right to say that you could not cast it. In the future, I expect you to, if you still plan on joining my Death Eaters?" Voldemort murmured quietly. Draco nodded with a "Yes, my Lord."

"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed. He held the spell on Draco for a short time before removing it. "My Death Eaters do not go against my orders, Draco. Do not threaten Potter again; he has proved to me that you are not yet ready to join my ranks. But I am a merciful man; I will not punish you further. Leave us, I wish to speak with our young guest." Malfoy nodded, bowed and was out of the room faster than he flew on his Nimbus 2001.

"How are you settling in, Harry?" Voldemort asked mockingly as he turned to the frozen teenager on the bed.

I'd be a lot better if the lunatic that wanted me dead a week ago hadn't kidnapped me and kept me prisoner in the house of someone I can't stand. Harry thought cynically. He couldn't move his mouth under the body-binding curse. He knew he was asking to be tortured, but at this point he couldn't care. He got his wish. Voldemort held the curse on him for only seconds but it felt like hours to Harry, who was still under the body-bind spell and couldn't move.

"I can hear you." Voldemort purred, taking a step closer to the bed. He removed Petrificus Totalus and Harry sat up. He desperately wanted to dart across the room, away from Voldemort, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing Harry was nervous.

"What do you want?" Harry growled between clenched teeth. Voldemort was looking at him hungrily making him feel like a cornered animal. The look was power-hungry and slightly curious, his head cocked slightly to the side like a child's.

"I want many things, Harry. Dumbledore dead. The Ministry in shambles. Mudbloods persecuted. Purebloods given the respect they deserve. But at this moment, all I want is your allegiance."

Harry snorted. "That again? What are you going to promise me this time, Voldemort? Sirius and Cedric and my mum and dad?"

"No boy. You are not quite as young and impressionable as you once were. You know the dead cannot be truly brought back to life. But I can give you power, you don't have to fight against me Harry. You can join me, and have a chance to live. You won't have to be Dumbledore's pet—"

"I'd rather be Dumbledore's pet than yours, thanks but no thanks." Harry growled, interrupting Voldemort. The Dark Lord once again tortured him, then put him under a silencing charm.

"Do not disrespect me, boy." Voldemort said calmly and continued. "I hate to be so cliché, Harry, but I'm afraid that if you do not join me willingly, your friends will die."

"Dumbledore will protect them." Harry said confidently.

Voldemort raised his eyebrow (well, he actually didn't have eyebrows, but if he did they would have been raised). "We will see, Harry, we will see."

Voldemort fired a silent curse at Harry on the way out of the room, causing harry to fall immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hi, guys! Thank you so much for all of you who reviewed or added The Seventh Horcrux as a favorite story. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw all of the attention the story got in under a day. Which is why I wrote chapter 3, I hope you liked it. I don't know when I'll update next, as I've got school, but I'll try to update soon Probably won't be too long as I have no life and confuse my friends with my superior intellect. Shh! Don't tell them I said that!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, blah, blah, blah. Let's get on with it, shall we?

Voldemort watched as Harry Potter passed out . . . again. It had been a total of two weeks that he'd had the boy in his clutches, and they were making great progress. Every day Potter would be dragged down to the cellar for what Voldemort had begun referring to as "lessons", then when the Dark Lord knew the boy was at the end of his endurance, he stopped and allowed Snape to tend to the boy. He was literally brought to the brink of insanity and back.

Voldemort knew he'd broken the boy. Harry had begged him to stop a multitude of times. He still would not call Voldemort Master, but there was time for that later. Now was the time to take the next step. In a matter of hours, Harry Potter would truly be his to command. Much better, he thought, than killing him. Not only will I break Dumbledore with Harry's betrayal, but the entire Wizarding World. The only one who could beat me at my disposal.

"Severus." Voldemort greeted as Snape entered the cellar. "My Lord." Snape answered with a respectful inclination of his head. "Will that be all?" Snape gestured vaguely at the pale, thin boy on the floor. Voldemort suddenly smirked. "Just give him a Pepper-Up potion to wake him. I have more work to do."

Snape grimaced inwardly. It was no secret that he detested Potter, but he didn't enjoy watching the boy suffer. Nobody deserves this, he thought sadly. It pained him more that he was breaking his promise to Lily. He was watching as her son was tortured mercilessly and broken slightly more each day and did nothing. He couldn't, of course. If he tried to smuggle the boy out he'd be caught and killed. So he did the best he could. He gave the boy dreamless sleep potions so nightmares wouldn't haunt him in the precious little comfort he got from sleep. He also tried to reassure him (albeit grudgingly) that Dumbledore was doing all he could.

Oddly enough Harry scowled at the mention of Dumbledore now. This worried Snape deeply. What kind of ideas was the Dark Lord putting into his head. At this point, with Potter's mind constantly under the strain of torture, he'd believe anything he was told. Especially if Voldemort told him the pain would stop if he believed it.

He produced a Pepper-Up potion from a pocket in his robes and stooped down next to Harry. He gently tipped Harry's head back and drizzled the draft slowly down his throat. The boy coughed violently and his eyes shot open.

Harry hurt. That's all he was aware of at that moment. He sat up slowly. He was still in the cellar. That couldn't be good. Voldemort was leaning against a wall, looking bored. He was twirling his wand slowly between his skeletal fingers. Snape was kneeling next to him, his face expressionless.

Harry was starting to feel nauseous. Voldemort pushed off the wall and crossed the room toward Harry. Harry flinched away. He latched onto Harry's upper arm and pulled him up, dragging him from the chamber. Voldemort hauled him through the manor back to hi—the—room.

"What are you doing?" Harry almost whimpered. Voldemort pulled him to the middle of the room. His grip moved to Harry's wrist, and fast as a striking snake his other hand withdrew from his robes, holding a dagger. Harry weakly struggled to remove his arm from Voldemort's grasp. But considering that he could barely stay standing, it was a futile attempt.

Harry noticed there was a table next to them. Three objects sat on the table. A simple silver goblet, and two wands. He immediately recognized one as his own holly and phoenix feather wand. He suspected the other was Voldemort's. It was really quite unremarkable for the wand of the Dark Lord. It was in many ways similar to Harry's, around an inch longer and made of lighter wood. But a dark energy seemed to radiate from the wand, just as it radiated from its master. It made Harry want to run from the room. At the same time, its magic seemed to lure Harry in.

That scared Harry. Harry was good. So why was dark magic calling to him so loudly? He tried to ignore it but felt his eyes wander to Voldemort's wand every few seconds, fascinated with the power that emanated from it.

Voldemort laughed a high, cold laugh that was more terrifying than his yelling. He set the dagger on the table, watching Harry entranced by the wand. "The dark magic calls to you, Harry. You were meant to serve me." Harry turned his head to slowly look at Voldemort, before he would've come up with some smart-assed answer to throw at Voldemort. But he . . . couldn't. Not when the dark magic was messing with his head. His eyes found his feet. "What are you going to do?" he asked quietly, feeling defeated.

Voldemort smiled triumphantly. "Put an end to your misery." Harry raised his head to look at Voldemort quizzically. Voldemort removed his hand from Harry's forearm and pulled up the sleeve of his robes. In one deft movement he slit his wrist and held it over the silver goblet. After the goblet was about a quarter full he healed his wrist and turned to Harry, who had been watching with morbid curiosity.

"Come here." Voldemort ordered.

Harry stayed where he was. "Why?" he asked warily.

Voldemort sighed. "Come here before I make you. Do you still think you could break free from the Imperious Curse?" Harry pursed his lips and shook his head minutely. He walked cautiously over to Voldemort. He felt like he'd lost. He'd given up. Voldemort had won.

Voldemort reached for the dagger.

"You are not cutting me with that." Harry muttered.

"What?" Voldemort hissed.

"You just cut yourself with that knife. I . . . could get AIDs!" Harry had to reframe from rolling his eyes. AIDs, the muggle disease, was the best he could think of. Would Voldemort even know what AIDs was?

Apparently Voldemort knew about AIDs because he laughed and spelled the dagger clean with a wave of his wand. Before Harry could come up with anymore stupid excuses, Voldemort grabbed his arm and slit his wrist. He held it over the goblet for a minute before healing it. Harry snatched his arm away, rubbing his wrist. Voldemort smirked.

Snape came forward with a potions bag. Voldemort let him and led Harry silently to the bed. Harry let himself be pushed toward the bed and sat down when instructed to. Voldemort stood over him and took out his wand. Harry visibly flinched. Voldemort began muttering unfamiliar spells under his breath. Harry felt himself calming down, as he'd been going into panic-attack mode, and at the moment he didn't he didn't care if it was Voldemort who had made him feel relaxed.

Harry seemed to go into a trance as Voldemort finished the last spell, his eyes unfocused and his breathing slowed. Voldemort left him sitting in his trance and walked back to Snape.

"Is the potion nearly finished?" he inquired.

Snape nodded. "It is ready, My Lord."

Voldemort nodded. He called Harry over and the boy walked over, not really coherent or aware of what he was doing. Voldemort drank half the potion and ordered harry to do the same, who again complied unconsciously.

Voldemort grasped Harry's forearm and motioned for Snape to begin. Snape touched the edges of both Harry's and Voldemort's wands to their linked hands.

"Will you, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, serve me to the fullest of your ability as a loyal Death Eater and assistant?" Voldemort asked.

"I-I will." Harry muttered pensively.

Two thin strings of light emitted from the wands' tips, snaking around their hands.

"Will you swear allegiance to me and accept the Dark Mark?"

"I will."

Two more ropes of light wound around their hands.

"And will you take the assignments I give you seriously, and take punishment when I give it?" Voldemort questioned.

"I will."

The last to tongues of light entwined around their hands, emitting a bright red glow. And then it faded.

The doors to Harry's room burst open. Yaxley stood in the doorway. He bowed deeply. "My Lord." Voldemort told him to rise and speak.

"The Order of the Phoenix has broken through our wards, My Lord!"

"That's alright, Yaxley. They are too late. Aren't they, Harry?"

Yaxley turned to look at the Potter boy. He didn't know much about him except that the Dark Lord had wanted dead a month ago and now wanted him alive for some reason. The Dark Lord had been scarce with the details when it came to The Boy Who Lived. The boy was standing about arm's length away from The Dark Lord with a faraway look in his eyes. He turned his head to look at Voldemort before answering quietly.

"Yes, Master."

And the suspense builds! lol Seriously, I need reviews! Thanks to anyone who sent one, those reviews are seriously the highlight of my day. I'm in high school, I don't have much to look forward to. So make the author happy and review! (please?)

Ok, so a reviewer asked me if I had the rest of the story planned out. The answer to that question is . . .sort of. I have a basic outline of what will happen but no actual writing on it. I'll probably update again tomorrow and Thursday, but not Friday or this weekend. I have to take that stupid baby simulator thing home this weekend for health (blegh!) and a Spanish teacher that would make Voldemort run screaming for his mommy.

And on a completely unrelated note (sort of): Guess who will be returning to Hogwarts with a hidden agenda in the fall?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note: I got some questions about the ritual in the last chapter, so I thought I'd explain. Ok, so yes, Voldemort and Harry are now bound by what I'm calling a Blood Vow. It's an original idea, not in the books, but the idea was that it was like a stronger version of an Unbreakable Vow in which the person agreeing is somewhat enslaved to the asking person's will. Harry will still have conscious thought, and thus be a smartass, but he will still have to do Voldemort's bidding. If anyone has any further questions about that, feel free to ask.

Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Madeye Moody, Arthur Weasley, and several other members of the Order fought their way through the throng of Death Eaters. They all had one thing, and one thing only, on their minds. Find Harry. The Death Eaters seemed to be minor distractions that were easily eradicated. It was odd, Remus thought, that there weren't more Death Eaters around to protect their precious Dark Lord. For such a fearsome dark wizard he hides behind his followers a lot, Lupin thought sourly.

They were inside Malfoy Manor now. Remus wanted desperately to go ahead and look for Harry, but he knew it wouldn't be advisable. "Madeye? Where do you suppose he'd be keeping Harry? The cellar?" He asked.

"Well, let's ask someone, shall we?" Madeye said with an evil glint in his eye. He walked over to a door a little ahead of them and threw it open, dragging out a tall, thin boy with whitish blonde hair.

"Mr. Malfoy," Moody growled with a feral grin on his mutilated face. "I suppose you know where young Mr. Potter is?"

"No!" Malfoy squeaked out.

Moody frowned. "Perhaps a couple minutes as a ferret would jog your memory."

Draco paled further. "He-he's . . ." he trailed off. He wasn't sure who he was more afraid of, Madeye Moody or Voldemort?

Lupin stepped forward, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Draco, let me put it this way. If you help us, you'll be much less likely to end up in Azkaban."

"He's in the cellar, but it's useless to try to get him. The Dark Lord's with him."

"Tonks, call for back-up. Get Dumbledore, we'll need him." Madeye growled.

The magenta-haired woman nodded and disapparated. The others headed for the cellar using the Point Me spell.

They were just reaching the door that led down to the cellar when there was a multitude of pops as more Order members apparated. Dumbledore appeared next to Lupin with a corresponding pop.

Together they descended the stairs into the dark room, afraid of what they might find.

What they found was a very amused looking Voldemort standing in the dimly lit room. At his feet was a black lump that after a moment Remus realized was Harry. He was still wearing his black school robes and a filthy white button-up shirt. Voldemort turned him over with his foot, a growl to erupt from Remus.

"Touch him again and I swear I'll rip your throat out."

Voldemort smirked and turned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Albus." He said mockingly, repeating what Dumbledore had said at the Ministry. "It's comical, Albus, that it worked out exceptionally for me."

"Come now, Tom. Be reasonable. Do you honestly think you can fight all of us and keep us from taking Harry?"

"I have no doubt that I can, but I have no intention of fighting all of you." Voldemort replied.

Forty Death Eaters apparated into the room at that minute. The Order immediately attacked the Death Eaters, leaving a wide berth around Voldemort, Dumbledore and Harry, who was unconscious.

Dumbledore and Voldemort began circling around Harry, their eyes seeing nothing but each other.

"He hates you, you know." Voldemort taunted. "You manipulated him more than I did, and he trusts you. He broke Dumbledore. You are at fault. The Boy Who Lived is broken, not by me, but you."

"What is broken can be fixed with time."

"Not always, Dumbledore. Harry was broken by something much worse than torture. He was broken by the truth. I must admit, he lasted longer than I thought he would against the Mental Attacks."

Dumbledore paled.

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore. He couldn't hide anything from me. He hates you for not telling him about the Prophecy. I told him about it, the part I knew anyway. Though I doubt he'll remember what I told him, I had him under the Cruciatus Curse at the time."

"I'm sorry, Tom." Dumbledore said calmly.

"What?" Voldemort hissed.

"I failed you when you were my student. I am well of Harry's curiosity about the Dark Arts, I will not fail him as I failed you."

Voldemort sneered.

Dumbledore continued. "Arrogance will be the death of you, Tom. You thought it impossible to steal Harry from right under your nose, but it had been done."

And then Dumbledore and all of the Order were gone with a pop!

Remus stood in the shadowy corner. Dumbledore's instructions had been clear. Wait for an opening and get Harry to safety. He watched Voldemort insult Dumbledore but was mostly watching Harry, who had stirred slightly on the floor between them.

He prayed that Harry wasn't noticed and he wasn't. Remus saw an opening and took it. He muttered "Wingardium Leviosa!" and Harry rose a few inched off the floor and began to slowly drift toward Lupin. He knew at once Dumbledore had noticed, as his eyebrow rose slightly. Voldemort didn't notice. Remus dove the last few feet and apparated with Harry in his arms.

Remus slammed into the ground at the doorstep of the Order HQ. He quickly readjusted his hold on Harry and rushed into the house. Molly Weasley and Poppy Pomfrey were ready in Sirius' bedroom. Remus laid Harry down on the bed, worried.

Harry looked at hell.

He was white as a sheet and thin as a broomstick. He trembled and shivered as if he was freezing and he was covered in sweat. Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips as she felt his forehead and he jerked violently away from her touch. She muttered "tortured," and "fever," under her breath.

Harry refused water or food by turning his head away; he whimpered and flinched anytime someone touched him. Poppy waved her wand over Harry's head and muttered a spell. After a moment she stopped and sighed.

"Well, he's in a bad way, but if we can get him to eat and drink something, he should be all right. There doesn't seem to be any brain damage. He'll need plenty of rest and therapy—"

"Therapy?" Lupin asked.

Pomfrey sighed. "Yes, Remus. There was no brain damage but he was still tortured mercilessly for two weeks and who knows what else. He'll be needing help to get over that."

"Oh." Lupin said. "So what do we do now?"

"Now—we wait for him to wake up."

Do you hate me? Was I terrible to Harry? Well, it was necessary to the story, so oh well. Review! And as always thanks to all of you who are following my story. Over 3,000 hits since Sunday! I feel appreciated=D

Don't worry! Harry WILL recover . . . sort of. And yes, Harry is broken, but I didn't want to copy a bunch of other fanfics and have him just suddenly switch sides. I want to be a writer, so I need to have my own ideas established in my writing, not an overdone idea that everyone's already done. What's the fun in that?

Lol, if you bothered to even read up to this point than you are awesome.

I'll update tomorrow, if I can. Bye!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Me no owns Harry Potter (wahhhhh!)

Harry: I really am mad at you! You broke me!

Me: I know, I'm terrible. I'll fix you sometime within my very twisted and confusing plot.

Harry: You mean it will be like a real J.K. Rowling book?

Me: Yup

Harry: Well, that's just great. I'll just wait here and be broken then.

Me: Now you're getting it!

Lol, that was random. On to the Story!

Lupin took turns with Molly to sit at Harry's bedside. He wasn't getting better, but he wasn't getting worse either. They had considered taking him to St. Mungo's, but decided against it. The Order Headquarters was the safest place for Harry right then. Lupin hated looking at Harry when he looked so . . . broken.

He was pale, paler than usual (no doubt from being tortured), and there was an unhealthy flush in his cheeks do to the fever. He was so thin that Lupin was left with no doubt that Harry had been starved. There were dark circles under his eyes, which flickered as his eyes moved under the lids. He groaned softly, painfully, and shifted weakly in the bed.

"Harry," Lupin sighed tiredly. "Come on, Harry, pull through for us. The world needs you."

Harry tossed his head and whimpered, trapped in some nightmare where Lupin couldn't reach him.

"I'm going to kill that bastard. Damn the stupid prophecy, obviously Trelawney's never met a really pissed off werewolf."

"If she had, she'd probably say it was a grim and that I was going to fall down a well or something equally as stupid." Lupin heard a weak voice croak.

His eyes flew to Harry's face. His green eyes were open, if somewhat unfocused. He was trying to sit up. Typical Harry, Lupin smiled at the thought. "Oh no, you don't. Lay back down. Now." He added the last part sternly, seeing the defiant light burning in the raven haired boy's eyes. Just like James, he didn't know when to give up.

Harry sighed a little dramatically and sat back against the pillows. He knew what was coming now.

"How are you?" Lupin asked.

"Like Hogwarts was dropped on top of me, then I was dug up and then every Quidditch fan in the Wizarding world ran me over on the way to the World Cup. Times twenty."

"That bad?"

"Yes, Lupin. That bad."

"How much do you remember?"

"Not much. I know Voldemort took me at the Ministry, but everything after that is a big blur." Harry now looked panicked. "Did he Obliviate me?"

"Not that I know of, Harry. You've been through a traumatic event; it's really not all that odd that you don't remember it." Lupin assured him.

Harry never got to answer because it was then that his scar started to burn profusely. Then it was gone. Lupin gave him a concerned look. Harry waved him off. "I'm fine, just . . . tired."

With that Harry fell into a deep, comforting sleep.

Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore were in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, watching as Snape paced furiously back and forth. "It's just not right, Dumbledore. The Dark Lord let Potter get away much too easily. It's like he wanted you to take him. And the Blood Vow, that can't be good."

"Dark Magic is never good, Severus." Dumbledore said mildly. Severus scowled. "Why can't you take this seriously, Dumbledore? Potter is basically Voldemort's slave!"

"Harry is resourceful. I'm sure he will be able to hold Voldemort off." Dumbledore said.

"Do you even care, Dumbledore? Do you really believe Potter can defeat the Dark Lord?"

"I have every faith in the great wizard Harry will someday be." Dumbledore answered simply.

"Yes, well, for now he's still an arrogant little prat, so perhaps you should be on guard around the boy. Who knows what evil the Dark Lord will have him doing." Snape snapped.

"Oh, not to worry, Severus. I will indeed be watching our young Harry very closely." Dumbledore said. The twinkle in his eye was nowhere to be seen.

Harry tossed and turned in his sleep.

He was in a dark room. It was familiar; it was the parlor of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort lounged in a thrown-like chair, his snake—Nagini—draped over his shoulders. Voldemort looked up and smiled. Harry would have rather been glared at.

"So my little horcrux indeed answers when I call for him." Voldemort said in his high, cold voice. This time it was mocking too.

"I'm not your anything, Voldemort." Harry wanted to say, but somehow he couldn't. He glared at his feet instead. There was a cold laugh and suddenly Voldemort was in front of him, jerking his chin up to see his face. Harry winced as pain shot through his scar from Voldemort's touch. He wanted to jerk away, but he couldn't. Somehow he knew it was because Voldemort didn't want him to.

"How must it feel to not be able to control even the smallest things about yourself." Voldemort murmured. Harry's knees suddenly buckled and he sunk into a kneeling position, Voldemort still holding his face up. "Do not forget the power I have over you, Harry. I've just made you kneel at my feet. You've called me Master because I wanted you to. I could make you torture your best friend and you wouldn't be able to resist me. Make no mistake Harry, you are ver much mine. Never forget that."

"Is there something you wanted, or are you just here to gloat?" Harry growled.

"I've called you here because I want you to do something for me." Voldemort's terrifying smile grew wider.

"And what is it you want me to do?" Harry asked warily.

"Why that should be obvious, dear Harry." Voldemort smiled. He leaned closer so that their faces were only inched apart. Harry felt Nagini wrap herself around his shoulders. But that wasn't the reason Harry felt he couldn't breathe. Voldemort's voice was a whisper.

"I want you to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Harry sat up in bed, screaming at the pain in his scar, Voldemort's pleasure crystal-clear in his mind.

OH! What ever will happen next? Please, please, please review! I really don't care if you say the whole thing's B.S.(though you probably wouldn't still be reading it if you thought that) please just tell me how I'm doing. If there's anything you think I can improve, don't hesitate to tell me. Except making chapters longer, I just can't! I'm sorry, I don't know why. I can make thirty page chapters with original stories, but fanfics . . . I'm hopeless!

Good news! My swim coach's on crack and misinformed the entire girl's swim team about when practices start! I'll be able to update again tomorrow and Wednesday! Yay! Lol, anyway I got several questions so I'm going to attempt to answer some of them.

-Angelic visage: Harry will be acting a bit different towards his friends, but not because of the ritual. I don't wanna ruin anything, so just keep reading,. The answer why should come up pretty soon.

-Tally Jennifer Youngblood: first of all, I love the Uglies series, so awesome name! Ok, so no, Harry will not go berserk and kill everyone, which I guess I answered in this chapter. Oh well!

Hmmh, well I guess that's all, then. I need more reviews to answer!

Oh, and I think I'm going to post an original story on the sister site () don't know what my penname will be yet but hears a summary of what I'm thinking of putting up. Tell me if you think it sounds good.

Jacob Riley is an ordinary American teenager. Mostly. Well, yes, he was a foster kid, and yes, his father had mysteriously disappeared when he was nine, but he was normal. Jacob could almost believe that. Until he was kidnapped by the freaking fairies. And until his best friend killed the math teacher . . .

Before he knows it, Jacob is thrown into the world of fairies and magic . . . and the Spellbound. The Spellbound—an elite race of magic users known for having awesome and unbelievable powers. Jacob has absolutely no interest in them, until the father who walked out on him turns out to be one of them. And everyone knows the saying "Like father, like son."

So . . . what do you think? Anyway if you actually read this ridiculously long author's note, you are pretty awesome! I'll update soon, reviews help me write faster! Just saying!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did, I wouldn't be spending all of my free time on this FanFiction. *sighs* oh, well.

Author's Note: to certain reviewers that don't like my story because Harry isn't REALLY dark (per say) just remember that the Blood Vow isn't just a physical thing. In a while Harry truly will be Dark, though it's more Dumbledore's fault than Harry's or even Voldemort's. And if you're thinking that Harry's still not really dark cause Voldemort's controlling him, well, how is that really any different from manipulating him into joining. I couldn't have Harry just change his views and join the Death Eaters completely of his own free will because that's just not something I could see him doing. Yes, Harry might leave the light side, but I just can't see him joining the dark side (without some prodding) and ruthlessly killing people he considers friends just because Dumbledore manipulated him. But I can understand where you're coming from. It's your opinion and you're entitled to it.

The summer holiday's passed slowly, and Harry felt as if he wasn't really a part of it. Ever since that night he'd been contacted by Voldemort (because he knew it wasn't just a nightmare) the Order had been . . . distant toward him. It wasn't something most people would notice, but Harry did. Their conversations were always short and a bit awkward. He often caught them glancing at him, only to look quickly away if he looked back.

But what confused and annoyed him the most was Dumbledore's interest in him. It used to be inquiries of his health, or even just friendly chats. Now all Dumbledore seemed interested in was Harry's nightmares and the Blood Vow.

Lupin burst into the room, his wand raised, only to find Harry sitting up in bed with a panicked look in his eyes. His eyes met Lupin's and he seemed to calm down slightly as he took in where he was. Lupin lowered his wand and then returned it to his pocket, seeing that Harry was in no physical danger.

"You alright, Harry?" he asked concernedly. The boy nodded shortly.

"Yeah, just a nightmare." The doubt was clear in his voice.

"About?"

Harry bit his lip.

"Harry, you can tell me." Lupin sat on the bed next to Harry, patting his shoulder a bit awkwardly.

"I betrayed everyone." Harry murmured quietly.

"Why do you say that?" Lupin asked calmly.

And so it began. Harry told Lupin everything, beginning at the Ministry. He explained how Voldemort had possessed him and then how he'd withdrawn when he'd called Harry his Horcrux. Lupin paled slightly at the name. Harry then explained how Dumbledore had tried to Obliviate him and how he'd been taken. He described emotionlessly how Voldemort had bribed him with power and riches. And how he'd taken his frustration out on Malfoy and got tortured for it. The recounting of the time he spent in the cellar was vague but detailed enough to get the point across.

He told Lupin of how he'd broken, trembling now. He insisted that if he'd been stronger he wouldn't have made the Blood Vow (under the influence of the Imperious Curse) and sworn to take the Dark Mark. He recounted his nightmare and was stunned when Lupin said "Alright, let's go see Dumbledore."

"What!"

"Well, he needs to know what happened, Harry. He's left you alone for this long because you need to recover, but this can't wait." Lupin said.

"But . . . I can't go! I don't know how this vow thing works! What if I walk into the room and just go mad?" Harry said frantically.

Lupin looked slightly uncomfortable. "Harry you're fifteen and Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards of the century. I honestly don't think he'd have much trouble subduing you."

So Harry warily followed Lupin Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore didn't look in the slightest surprised to see them. Harry explained everything again.

"I know about the vow, Harry." Dumbledore said.

"You do? But then—"

"Why am I allowing you to stay here? Because Harry, you have done nothing wrong. Anyone would break under what you were put through. It's isn't your fault, and I won't punish you for something beyond your control. Plus I can't very well just leave you somewhere for Voldemort to recollect you." Dumbledore said without the usual twinkle in his eye.

"But I'm like a bomb waiting to go off!" Harry argued. Lupin looked lost.

"What's a bomb?"

"It's similar to a trigger spell. You set it to go off at a certain time and it blows things up." Dumbledore explained. "And that hardly matters. What does matter is that Harry is kept away from Voldemort. You may have to take a Dreamless Sleep potion at night, Harry." He said, turning to Harry.

"You want to drug me?"

"For your safety and the safety of others, we may have to." Dumbledore replied.

"For your safety, you mean." Harry growled.

"Harry!" Lupin reproached.

"Harry, don't let him get to you. Don't let his anger overpower you. You are still Harry, not just Voldemort's puppet." Dumbledore said calmly.

Harry's emotions were in turmoil. Part of him wanted to jump up and start smashing things (like Dumbledore's face) and part of him wanted to cry. Dumbledore didn't understand. Voldemort wasn't making him angry. Dumbledore was.

"He's not overpowering me! You manipulated me, you always have! You never tell me anything and yet I have this supposed great destiny. I live with my muggle aunt and uncle who hate me and kept me locked in a cupboard for ten years! You no doubt knew, but you apparently didn't care. I hate you Dumbledore! Just as much as I hate fucking Voldemort! All you do is manipulate me. I told Voldemort I'd rather be your puppet than his, but truthfully I'd rather not be part of this at all. I'm fifteen for bloody hell's sake! I'd walk out on this right now if I could, but I can't. Because you or Voldemort would drag me back into it! But I'm done being a puppet, Dumbledore. If you want me to go fight Voldemort, just bloody tell me! Stop running circles around things and just be straight. If you want my help, tell me what I'm in for!"

"Alright, Harry." Dumbledore said soberly. "You're quite right, I've been treating like a child, and you are growing up. You deserve to know everything."

"Then why don't you start with horcruxes. What are they and why does Voldemort regard me as property now?"

Dumbledore winced. "A horcrux is a piece of dark magic in which a piece of the soul is placed in another object—such as a diary, for instance—that way, hypothetically, if you were killed you wouldn't die. Voldemort made seven Horcruxes. One is the diary you destroyed in the chamber of secrets in your second year. Another is the ring of a relative of his, I destroyed it. And then there's you, Harry. The Horcrux he never meant to make. When your mother died, she used an old magic to protect you. When he gave you that scar and the spall rebounded, it should've killed him. But a piece of his soul latched onto you when the spell rebounded and you became a horcrux."

"But that's only three." Harry said.

"Yes, I haven't found the others yet. I have several theories, but no hard evidence."

"What were you planning on me doing when I was 'ready?'" Harry asked. This was the moment of truth. Literally. Had Voldemort been lying or did Dumbledore want him to kill himself?

"I would have asked you to help me find and destroy the other horcruxes." Dumbledore said simply.

"And then? When we had, what would you want me to do?" Harry persisted.

Dumbledore sighed. "I would have asked you to die for the greater good. So millions of others wouldn't die pointlessly."

The problem was that Harry understood Dumbledore's point. What was his life compared to millions of others? If Voldemort had no more horcruxes, he could be killed. And Harry was a liability.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

Neither can live while the other survives.

Harry made his decision . . .

So . . . what do you think? Was it ok? Please review! I got my first negative review *sob* oh, well. I'll live. Is anyone confused? Good. You should be. I purposely didn't express Harry's intentions. Guess you'll have to keep reading to find out . . . and review! Lol. I was gonna make this chapter longer, but it just felt like it should end here. Any guesses as to what is going on in Harry's mind? I'll update ASAP, so probably like tomorrow. Expect around 2-3 updates a week. I don't have practice Fridays this year, yay! Eh, conditioning for swimming is TORTURE! 80 laps! Lol. Until tomorrow, people!

c-h-l-o-e77: thanks, I appreciate it!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Harry chewed his lip nervously. This is what you wanted, he thought dryly. Escaping the Order had been surprisingly easy. After all, the defensive spells were meant to keep people out, not in. He waited till everyone was asleep and snuck out under the invisibility cloak, thanking God that Moody hadn't stayed overnight.

Voldemort, if you can hear me, I need to talk to you. He thought.

No reply came. But Severus Snape did.

"Potter," Snape snapped, "What are you doing out here?"

"Just getting some fresh air, Professor. Is that something I should add to the ever-growing list of things I'm not allowed to do now as well?" Harry retorted.

"Those restrictions are to keep you out of the hands of the Dark Lord, as you well know. I knew you were arrogant, but not this arrogant. The Order takes measures to assure your safety and you undermine them for your own little pleasures." Snape sneered.

"Why don't you cut the shit, Snape? I don't know what you're playing at, being a double agent for God knows who, but either way you'll end up burned." Harry growled.

"You cut the shit, Potter. We both know you didn't come out here for fresh air." Snape answered in a deadly calm voice.

"And what are you going to do? Ten points from Gryffindor?" Harry jeered.

"I'm not going to do anything, Potter. I'm going to sit back and watch you get burned." And with that Snape turned on his heel and went back through the door of 12 Grimmuald Place.

Harry stared with his mouth open as Snape disappeared back into the Order HQ. Then he snorted, he's probably gone to rat me out to Dumbledore so he can keep me under house arrest.

Pain exploded in Harry's scar.

"Well, that was quite an interesting exchange, wasn't it Harry?" Harry turned—his hand still clutching his head—and faced the snake-like man standing behind him.

Voldemort smirked.

"What do you expect me to do if you turn me?" Harry asked bluntly.

"My dear Harry, you have already been turned." Voldemort stepped closer. Harry met his crimson eyes head on, refusing to look weak. Voldemort still grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. Harry kept eye contact, despite the almost unbearable pain in his head.

"No, I haven't. The Blood Vow forces me to do your bidding, but that doesn't mean I'm loyal to you. You could order me to blow the Order to pieces and I'd do it because I'd have to, but I would still be loyal to my friends."

"I could force you to be loyal to me, I could manipulate your mind until you thought right was wrong and up was down." Voldemort murmured.

"You could, but you won't." Harry replied.

"And why wouldn't I, Harry?"

"Because I still wouldn't be truly loyal to you. I'd fight you ever step of the way and even though I'd probably lose, I still wouldn't really be yours." Harry stated curtly. He pulled out of Voldemort's gripped and took a step back, eying Voldemort calmly.

"It would still be beneficial to have an obedient little pet at Hogwarts."

"Isn't that Snape's job?" Harry asked seriously.

Voldemort chuckled quietly. It sent shivers up Harry's spine, which he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

"Well as much as I love watching you shiver from the cold, I think it's time we went somewhere more private." Voldemort said with a mocking inflection in his voice.

Voldemort rested a hand on Harry shoulder, Harry repressed a shiver. "Think about Malfoy Manor." Voldemort instructed. Oh, yeah, 'cause there's so many happy memories there. Harry thought cynically, but thought about the wretched place all the same.

There was the uncomfortable feeling of being pushed through a rubber tube, Harry felt suffocated. Than his feet smacked into solid ground and he stumbled. Voldemort's hand was still holding his shoulder in a loose grip. His grasp moved to Harry's upper arm, catching him before he fell to a heap on the floor.

"All right there, Harry?" Voldemort asked mockingly.

"M fine," Harry mumbled, pulling away from Voldemort.

They were standing in the bedroom Harry had occupied while being held at Malfoy Manor. It didn't bring back good memories. Most were hazy and confused, as he'd only spent time in this room when he was recuperating from Voldemort's "lessons". And this was the room that he'd pledged himself to Voldemort in. And now he was back. Willingly.

"So you wish to speak with me?" Voldemort asked, amused.

"I've already asked you what I want to know."

"Ah, yes. You wish to know what I will expect of you once you have truly become mine." Voldemort smirked as anger sparked in Harry's green eyes.

"I'm not your property, and I never will be." Harry growled.

"You are my Horcrux, are you not?"

"I'm still a person. Not that you have any reverence for human life." Harry glared.

"The muggle-lover has brainwashed you. I have very high reverence for Wizard life. It is the way of life, my dear Harry. The strong command the average, and the weak die. Is it so wrong to let those who know best get the respect and power they deserve?"

"Who says they know best, just because they're Pureblooded? I'm a Half-Blood. You're a Half-Blood—"

Voldemort growled, cold anger ignited in his eyes. "Listen here, boy. My filthy muggle father was a wrong I corrected long ago, when I slaughtered the bastard." He had Harry backed up against a wall, much like Harry had done to Draco. "I am as pure as my ancestor Salazar Slytherin. If you ever call me a filthy Half-Blood again, I will strike you down where you stand, Horcrux be damned. Is that understood?"

"You're mad," Harry breathed out.

"Mad am I, Potter? When I'm done with you, you just might be!" Voldemort hissed. "Crucio!"

Harry cried out. Voldemort held the spell for nearly two minutes before releasing Harry. He crashed to the floor gasping for breath and trembling. Voldemort hauled him up by his under arm and slammed him against the wall, his wand poking into Harry's neck. "Are we understood?" Voldemort hissed. Harry nodded.

Voldemort stepped away. Harry crumpled to the floor again. He stayed there for a time, trying to get his breathing under control. He finally got shakily to his feet, eying Voldemort warily. It seemed that he had calmed down a bit himself as well. The pain in Harry's head while Voldemort tortured him was worse than the actual spell.

"As I started before your rude disruption, I would expect you to continue at Hogwarts and gather any information you can on the Order, amongst other things."

"What about . . . killing . . . Dumbledore?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Ah, yes, that you would wait to do until you have orders from me."

"Why me?"

"Because he has betrayed you. He still expects you to go along with his plans, correct?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes." Harry said tightly.

"And you don't want to? Do you?" Voldemort asked.

"I—it was never my choice. I . . . always felt like I had to do it. I had to stop you from getting the sorcerer's stone. I had to kill the basilisk and stab the diary. I had to save Ginny. Because no one else would. But this . . . dying for something because it's what's expected of me . . ." Harry trailed off. "I would rather not be part of this at all."

"Dumbledore does not understand that, Harry. But I do. Help me end this war. The sacrifices on both sides have been great. Join me and when this is over, no one will expect anything of you."

Harry looked up. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I can't sit back and let you kill the people I care about." Harry answered honestly.

"What if I assured you they wouldn't be harmed?"

"Any of them? The Weasleys, Hermione, any of the D.A., Lupin?"

"I can guarantee you that none of your loved ones would die at my hand or on my orders." Voldemort replied.

"But other innocent people . . ."

"Die every day. What's a few more. Things are not always black and white Harry. Are they really innocent? They lust for my death, they will fight for Dumbledore. They are not innocent." Voldemort said.

"What about the muggles you kill for sport?" Harry glared.

"If it will appease you, I will order my Death Eaters not to wreak havoc on any muggles."

"You would stop doing that just because I don't like it? But I thought you didn't care about your servants." Harry said, wide eyed.

"I don't. But you would not be just a servant. You are also my Horcrux. You are a piece of me, so I would keep you pacified." Voldemort replied.

"Make an Unbreakable Vow."

"You do not trust me, Harry?" Voldemort smiled.

"Would you?" Harry retorted.

"Ah, Harry. You become more like me every day. Why would I lie to myself?"

"Just do it." Harry growled.

Voldemort smirked. "I have something better. The Blood Vow allows for added agreements."

"It does?"

"Yes. Hold out your arm." Voldemort ordered. Harry looked at him warily. Voldemort hissed and grabbed his arm. "I, Lord Voldemort, heir to Salazar Slytherin, promise that I will not harm any of Harry Potter's loved ones. No muggles will die by my hand for sport, nor will they die at the hands of my Death Eaters."

A thin string of light wove around their hands, entwining with phantom forms of the other bonds. Then they all faded.

"I have upheld my side of the Bargain. Will you become a true servant and take the Dark Mark?" Voldemort asked.

Harry took a deep breath.

"I will."

Dun, dun, dun! So what did you guys think? I'm so terribly sorry I haven't updated all week. I've been really busy with Finals (damn them), swim team, homework, etc. But I'm now on Christmas Break! Three weeks of freedom! Thank God. Anyway review! Thanks to all of you who review, favorite, or alerted my story. It really makes my day to read your opinions or just to know you like my story.

It came to my attention that I made a mistake last chapter. Lupin didn't know what a bomb was because I thought he was Pureblooded. But someone pointed out that he is a Half-Blood so would of course know what a bomb is. Thanks to said reviewer for pointing that out.

P.S. to any British readers—there's got to be some of you out there—I need your help. If you could give me some tips and pointers on how you guys talk, it would be much appreciated! I want this to be realistic (as realistic as a story about magic and evil snake-men can be, anyway)

I'm on break so expect lots of updates! Reviewing will give me more incentive! If anyone wants to guess what will happen next, feel free! And I'm open to ideas, so if you want a certain character in here, tell me. I might just add them. Thanks again, until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do own an adorable pug named Harry, though.

Author's note: ok, so I just wanted to make a few things clear before I get started.

Luna is part of the D.A., so she is protected through Harry's and Voldemort's Vow.

No, this is not slash. None of my stories will be slash because I myself can't stomach them.

Yes, Harry will take the Dark Mark. There is a reason behind it which will be in later chapters.

VOLDEMORT IS NOT GOOD. He is just as bad as in the books, he's just sneaky.

And lastly, thanks to MollieEmma for the mom/mum tip. I will try to remember that.

Harry stood in the back of the dining room turned conference room, the hood of his robes pulled up to hide his face. Death Eaters ambled around nervously, waiting for the arrival of their master. No one noticed him, disguised in the sea of black robes and tension.

Voldemort appeared from a door next to the head of the table, taking his seat. Around twenty Death Eaters took seats at the table after him. Several remained standing, Harry among them. Some removed their hoods and with a start Harry recognized many of them as Ministry officials or even knew them personally. Lucius Malfoy was one of them and Harry felt his lips pull back from his teeth in a silent snarl.

The chair to Voldemort's immediate right was left vacant.

"Dear friends, it is with great joy that I call this meeting," came Voldemort's high, cold voice. His face was still covered but somehow Harry knew he was sporting a triumphant smirk. Voldemort didn't full-on smile unless someone was in pain.

"We have a new member joining our ranks, one who for a long time I thought a great enemy. Now I believe he will be a prodigious ally. But our new friend is not the only one to join our ranks tonight. We have all seen our young Draco Malfoy grow up, and tonight, he too will join us."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Malfoy was becoming a Death Eater? But Malfoy was just an arrogant git, not a murderer! Harry forced this to the back of his mind. Am I really one to talk? But Harry was trying to end a war; his reasons for joining were completely different . . .

"Now if our two honored guests would step forward?" Voldemort asked, his eyes focusing directly on Harry, red orbs all that could be seen from under his hood. Malfoy (he had his hood up, but it had to be Draco) sauntered forward, exuding confidence—or arrogance—and bowed before Voldemort. Voldemort didn't spare him a glance, keeping his eyes on Harry. He walked warily forward, head bowed, before bowing stiffly to Voldemort.

"Hold out your arms." Voldemort demanded, his eyes finally leaving Harry to look at Draco. Harry saw Malfoy shiver slightly under Voldemort's gaze from the corner of his eye. Both boys complied. Voldemort stood and moved so he was positioned in front of Draco.

He poked his wand into Malfoy's left forearm. "Morsmordre!"

Malfoy flinched but tried to hide it. Voldemort smiled. A vague shape began to form on Draco's arm. Like a painting, lines of black appeared in his skin forming a skull. A snake protruded from the tip of Voldemort's wand and slithered behind the skull and then reappeared from the skulls mouth like a warped tongue, before freezing on his arm. The whole time Malfoy whimpered and tried not to squirm.

Voldemort removed his wand. "Rise." He ordered. Draco rose and turned to face the crowd of Death Eaters. Voldemort pulled the hood of his robe down, revealing his face. "I present to you Draco Malfoy, an official member of our noble cause."

There was polite clapping and then silence.

"It seems you are all eager to find the identity of our other guest?" Voldemort smirked. "I'll not make you wait any longer then."

Voldemort turned to Harry. He touched the tip of his wand to Harry's forearm. "Morsmordre!" Pain erupted in Harry's arm. It felt like Voldemort was using a hot knife to carve the Dark Mark into his skin. Harry showed no emotion, he'd been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse multiple times. This was barely a twinge compared to that.

He watched in morbid fascination as the Dark Mark burned itself into his arm. What the hell am I getting myself into? He thought. "Rise." Voldemort commanded. Harry met his eyes briefly before standing and facing the crowd. His heart pounded in his chest. He pushed the panic down as best he could and forced his breathing to straighten out. There was no going back now. He was a Death Eater. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Harry thought as he felt the hood pulled back to reveal his pale face. "I present to you Harry Potter, an esteemed member of our noble cause."

Harry Potter was met with shocked silence.

oh my God! Whatever will happen next? Review please; they help a lot with getting rid of writer's block. I made up the Dark Mark scene; I don't know how they really would do it as it wasn't in any of the books. Morsmordre was the spell used in the Goblet of Fire to put the Dark Mark in the sky (I found it in the book) so I figured it'd probably be the same to put it on a person.

If it's a bit confusing to you, I understand that. This chapter takes place about a week after last chapter, not all in one night. If you have any comments, review!

A special thanks to my best friend who FINALLY bothered to read my story. Are you red now 'cause I mentioned you? I'll bet you are. HAHAHAHA!

Anyway, I'll review soon! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah! Have a good holiday, whatever you celebrate!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, wish I did

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers (that's not at all an awkward greeting) so I'm answering questions!

nickyx3: Harry went back to stay with the Order, he didn't stay with Voldy the whole week because that would've blown his cover and though Harry is bound to Voldy's orders and can't openly disobey him he can tell half-truths if he wants (hint, hint)

Anonymous: some of the more independent Death Eaters might consider that Harry could be a double-agent, but most of them are to simple-minded and eager to please their master to accuse Voldy's new favorite of treachery

Waterisjustcomingoutofthesky: I really can't say much about Draco without revealing some fact or another, so I'll be blunt. Draco is an arrogant idiot. He will always be an arrogant idiot. He is a sniveling little prat (but we love him anyway—as Hermione's punching bag at least)

ElementalMaster16: no, the Order doesn't know about Harry's night time activities (wow, I just realized how wrong that sounded) what I mean to say is that the Order doesn't know Harry's a Death Eater.

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Harry thought as he felt the hood pulled back to reveal his pale face. "I present to you Harry Potter, an esteemed member of our noble cause."

Harry Potter was met with shocked silence.

Harry watched expressions ranging from fury to confusion spread across the faces of the Death Eaters. He stared back blankly, not sure whether he should smile or say something. He was saved the decision as Lucius Malfoy stepped forward.

"Potter, my Lord? Are you sure he can be trusted?" he asked the question nervously, but there was no doubt that he didn't trust Harry.

Harry felt the long, skeletal hand rest on his shoulder; he forced himself not to flinch as his scar ached dully. The young wizard could nearly feel the glare Voldemort was treating Malfoy to. The man visibly paled and bowed his head; Harry couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the edge of his lips.

"I understand that Harry and I have had our . . . differences in the past," Harry held back a snort, "but as I have already explained, Harry has seen sense and joined us. Though he is not keen on the ideas of killing and torture," Harry could hear the smirk in his voice, "he is none the less a Death Eater. I trust him," the last part was said more quietly, all traces of amusement gone. "And if you question my authority by disrespecting him, it is I that you will be answering to. And I will know, even if I am not told."

The threat hung in the air for a moment before Voldemort moved on to other matters, surprising everyone—including Harry—by ushering him into the vacant chair to Voldemort's immediate right. Harry let Voldemort's voice wash over him, not really listening to the conversation going on around him, lost in his own thoughts.

He hadn't thought Voldemort would defend him—to be frank, he'd thought he'd personally throw him to the wolves. Or in this case Death Eaters. He was brought back to reality by the mention of his name.

He raised his eyes and realized that everyone was staring at him. Voldemort was watching him expectantly and the Death Eaters suspiciously. He felt his face heat up as he realized Voldemort must have asked him something.

"Er . . . sorry?" Harry asked a little sheepishly. The Death Eaters looked scandalized, how dare he not pay attention? But their eyes went directly to their master as Voldemort chuckled.

"I understand politics can be rather boring, but do try to pay attention, Harry. I asked if you knew anything about the Order of the Phoenix's defenses?"

"I . . . ah, not much. Just that they're meant to keep people out, not in. And that Dumbledore's the secret keeper. And that muggles can't see it . . ." Harry said, blushing a deeper shade of pink. Voldemort sat appraising him narrowly.

Voldemort smirked. "Yes, Harry, I had figured that muggles couldn't see it." Harry felt he'd rather be facing a dragon at this point. Or in Snape's double potions class, he wasn't sure which was worse. "But none the less, some of what you've said has been useful. I had guessed that Dumbledore was the secret keeper, but apparently Snape couldn't be sure . . ." he sent a scorching glare toward Snape.

"I am sorry, my Lord. We cannot all be Dumbledore's golden boy." Snape answered curtly, earing glares from the rest of the Death Eaters. I'll bet he's wildly popular with this lot, Harry thought with a smirk.

"And if you are right to say that the defenses are one-sided, Harry, than perhaps there is a way in." Voldemort gave Harry a proud smile that chilled him worse than his glare. "If there are no other orders of business?"

"Master?"

Harry looked up to see an unfamiliar man raise his hand timidly.

"What is it, Yaxley?" Voldemort drawled.

"Well, my Lord, if you do not mind my asking, what exactly is the boy going to do? We already have a spy at Hogwarts and in the Order."

"That is true, Yaxley. However, as Severus so eloquently put it, Harry is Dumbledore's golden boy—or at least he believes him to be. He expects Harry to kill me someday," Voldemort smirked at this, "and to do that, even Dumbledore will have to reveal how he plans to achieve this. And I will be able to stop him."

"Enough of this talk of my demise, as it is no longer a point of concern," Voldemort gave Harry that proud smile again, "I think that concludes this meeting."

The Death Eaters waited for Voldemort to stand before getting to their feet. They shuffled out quickly. Harry stood but stayed in the conference room. He needed to side-along apparate back to 12 Grimmuald Place.

"Harry, Severus, a word." came Voldemort's cold voice. Harry turned back to regard Voldemort. Snape simply rose his eyebrow, he hadn't moved from his seat at the table. He stood and walked over, bowing his head to Voldemort and giving Harry a look of thinly veiled disdain.

"Severus, I would prefer it if Dumbledore was not aware of Harry's attendance of this meeting."

"Of course, my Lord." Harry noticed it was always my Lord, never Master with Snape.

"If he should find out, you know who I will hold responsible? The punishment would be severe." Voldemort smiled and Harry had to repress another shiver. He tried to keep his face an indifferent mask, though he doubted he did it as well as Snape. The greasy git has had years of practice, he thought with distaste.

"That will be all, Severus." A clear dismissal. "Wait for Harry outside."

Snape nodded and left. Harry was alone with Voldemort. Oh, brilliant.

"Something is troubling you, Harry." Voldemort stated bluntly. "Do not lie to me. This connection is not one-sided. You can feel my emotions, and with a bit of patience I can feel yours. Even when you are not feeling said emotion to the extreme."

There was no use in lying, Voldemort would know.

"This all started because of the prophecy. Dumbledore showed it to me." Harry mumbled.

"Did he now? Do you remember it?" Voldemort asked eagerly.

Harry shook his head. "Just bits and pieces. Neither can live while the other survives. That's the part that keeps bothering me."

"I can get the rest of the prophecy."

Harry looked up warily. "How?"

"It won't hurt you. I believe you know what a pensieve is?" Voldemort inquired.

"Yes."

Voldemort summoned a pensieve and ordered Harry over. Harry approached cautiously. "Just think about the prophecy." Voldemort told him.

Harry chewed his lip nervously but closed his eyes and thought about the prophecy. There were no muttered words of a spell, just the feel of the tip of Voldemort's wand against his temple. He was so preoccupied with that ironic fact that he felt nothing and jumped in surprise when Voldemort said amusedly, "You can open your eyes, Harry."

His memory swirled in the pensieve. It was odd, to say the least. Voldemort tapped the tip of his wand to the liquid in the pensieve and in a sense of déjà vu Harry watched the figure of Professor Trelawney rise and recite the prophecy.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

Voldemort watched, seemingly transfixed, as Trelawney sank back into the depths of the pensieve.

Voldemort chuckled darkly, "It appears that I could have been my own downfall."

Harry looked at him warily.

"But this is one prophecy that will not come to pass, am I correct, Harry?" Voldemort questioned.

"Yeah."

Voldemort smiled—well as close he could get to a smile without someone withering on the floor before him—and patted Harry's cheek condescendingly.

"You may go."

Harry nodded and with another stiff bow he left. Snape didn't speak to him outside the room, just took his arm and disapparated back to the Order HQ. He disarmed the defensive spells long enough to allow them both to slip inside and climbed the stairs to his room without a backward glance at Harry. The boy quietly climbed the stairs and back into the room he had been sleeping in, but was in fact Sirius'. He changed into his night clothes and slipped into bed, finally letting himself relax.

And only then did he allow the thought to drift to the front of his mind. The thing that had truly been bothering him during the meeting.

I already know how Dumbledore wants to kill Voldemort. . .

So . . . yeah. Harry's officially a death eater and Voldemort got a dressing down. Tell me what you think, I love reviews! Again, any questions you have, feel free to ask!

So then I'll update soon! Bye!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Answering questions!

nickyx3: not to worry, all the protagonists are in this chapter! Yay!

Always reviewing anonymous: Snape usually would, but if he did, than Dumbledore wouldn't have a spy in the Death Eaters ranks. He's not sure which side Harry's really playing for, so he really can't. Does that make sense?

P.S. ok, so get that some of you don't like the blood vow, but I can't exactly go back and change it. It will still (hopefully) be an interesting story. And Voldy CAN control Harry, but that doesn't necessarily mean he WILL. He won't cause he'd rather have a pet horcrux *wince* that trusts him. They're kinda at a stalemate because of the blood vow. Harry has to do what Voldy tells him to, but Voldy can't harm Harry's loved ones/muggles.

Harry,

How have you been? I've been so worried since You-Know-Who took you! Ron told me you were fine now, but his dad wouldn't tell him much. I haven't heard anything being home with mum and dad, and Ron is being brief due to his dad. Well anyway, I'll be staying over at the Order HQ for the rest of holiday (Ron is too), are you there already? I imagine you are . . . I miss you, Harry. Hope to see you in a few days.

P.S. Happy Birthday!

Love,

Hermione

Harry smiled. Typical Hermione. Worried and then blaming Ron for something. He hadn't gotten any letters from Ron or Hermione since getting back, a fact that had disappointed him greatly. Lupin, who had been living at the Headquarters to look after Harry, explained that the Wizarding World was in chaos with Voldemort's return discovered and as a precaution owl post wasn't allowed at the HQ until it was checked for curses. Apparently Death Eaters had a sick sense of humor. . .

Not that they'd dare to send Voldemort's new pet cursed post, harry thought a bit bitterly. Ron had owled him as well.

Hey Harry,

Me and the whole lot at the Burrow have been worried about you. Dad says he doesn't see you much when he's over, you stay hidden up in your room. Though you might just be bored. Is it about You-Know-Who? Or Padfoot? We miss you, mate! Mum, Dad, Ginny and me are coming soon, I think Hermione is to. See you then.

Ron

So Ron and Hermione were coming. And Ginny. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He missed his friends, but he wasn't sure what he'd do when they came. They would no doubt want to know what happened when he was Voldemort's prisoner. I'm still Voldemort's prisoner. Harry sighed. He couldn't tell them the truth.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up as Lupin popped his head into the room. He looked like hell. Harry realized it must've been that time of the month. He looked outside and sure enough, the moon was nearly full.

Lupin didn't think Harry looked much better. He was pale and didn't eat as much as he used to. He jumped at the slightest sound and wasn't nearly as social as he'd been before. He usually sat in his room doing homework, reading, or looking out the window.

He was glad that the Weasleys and Hermione were coming, Harry needed more human interaction. All of the time in solitude couldn't be good for him.

Something else that Lupin noticed was that Harry always looked sad and slightly guilty. He wondered if Harry was still guilty that he'd made a Blood Vow with Voldemort. He shouldn't be, he was forced into it.

"Hmm?" Harry asked.

"I just wanted to be sure you were ok? You've been really quiet lately." There it was again, that guilty gleam in his eyes.

"I'm fine. Just a little put out, I guess."

"Harry, if you need to talk, I'd listen. I'm not your parents or Sirius, but I still care about you. You know that don't you?"

Harry bit his lip before answering. "Course I know that, thanks Remus." A clear message that he didn't want to talk. He looked back up at Lupin when he didn't leave. "Was there something else?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Dinner's ready."

"Kay, I'll be down in a minute." Harry gave him a small smile.

"Oh, and the Weasleys should be here in time for your birthday. Hermione too." Lupin's smile drooped slightly. "I'm sorry I can't be there, Harry. You know how things are . . ."

"I understand Lupin, don't worry about it." Harry gave him another sad smile.

Lupin nodded and retreated from the room, more sure than ever that there was something wrong with Harry.

Harry was in the parlor at Malfoy Manor again. But this time Voldemort wasn't there, at least Harry didn't think he was until he realized he was Voldemort. Not again. He felt savage pleasure wash over him as he watched the Death Eater in front of him wither in pain on the floor. No, Voldemort is happy when he tortures people, not me. Harry told himself. Voldemort immediately stopped and ordered the Death Eater away. After the person left, Voldemort seated himself on the sofa.

So, Harry, my little horcrux, you still fight me? I expected you to of course; it is exactly what I would have done. We are alike, Harry, you cannot fight your instincts forever.

But I can fight you.

Voldemort laughed. My dear Harry, I am you instincts.

Harry woke in a cold sweat.

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"HARRY!"

Harry was nearly suffocated in Mrs. Weasley's hug. She pulled him away and held him at arm's length. "How are you? Alright?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice. Harry felt more guilty.

"I'm good, Mrs. Weasley. Thanks." He smiled. A genuine smile, for the first time since the Ministry.

Ginny was next, which surprised Harry. She didn't say anything, just hugged him. He knew she'd been with him at the Ministry, but it had nearly slipped his mind. "I'm glad you're alright, Harry." She said quietly. They were both blushing when she backed away.

"Hey mate, it's been a while." Ron grinned as he clapped him on the back.

"Harry!" Hermione smiled and hugged him as well.

"Hey, I've missed you. All of you." He said, smiling.

"So . . . what happened?" Ron asked, his smile gone.

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both "Ron!"ed him.

"It's fine, I'll tell you guys. But let's catch up first, shall we?" Harry said. He couldn't tell them everything, some things he would. But not yet. For now he felt like an ordinary teenage wizard seeing him friends over holiday.

He could be The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, the traitor to wizard kind, later.

For now, he was just Harry.


	12. Chapter 12

Hello my awesome readers! Long time no see (read?). Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised about how many of you gave input on what you wanted from this story as far as the conclusion. Lots of you wanted Harry to go dark (sadistic maniacs! Just kidding) so you can bet Harry will go through a dark time. But a lot of you also wanted a combination. So, Harry will go dark for a short while (it'll take some time to progress to that), but this is Harry we're talking about. He's NOT an evil person at heart, so he won't be staying dark. As a unique twist, Harry won't per say go back to the "light" or Dumbledore, he'll do what's right, but not because the light is pushing him too. Don't worry, Harry won't suddenly become a revenge seeking psycho.

Don't own Harry Potter. Never will own Harry Potter. Is this disclaimer even necessary? No. No it is not.

Am I missing anything? Don't think so . . .

On with the story!

Harry shared his room with Ron that night. Not because there wasn't enough room in 12 Grimmuald place for him to have his own, but because he knew Ron would just end up sneaking in and staying up to talk all night as it was.

Harry wasn't sure what to tell his friends. He didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell the truth. Not the whole truth anyway. He was on autopilot all through dinner, listening to the buzz of conversation around the table without being a real part of it.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom and when he returned there was only one conversation going on.

"Has he been like this since he got back?" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried from the kitchen. Harry stopped and back up so that he was still able to hear the conversation without being seen. He had no illusions of who they were talking about.

"I honestly dunno, Molly. He spends most of his time locked away in his room and if I try to talk to him, he doesn't answer or looks distracted." He could just imagine Lupin rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Has he told you what happened?"

"No. All I know is that he was more than physically hurt by Voldemort. Something happened, I know it did. But he won't tell me." Lupin sighed.

"Have you thought that maybe he just wants to work things out on his own? I know Harry, he doesn't like involving others in personal things. Especially if it has to do with You-Know-Who." This was Ginny. Harry silently thanked her.

"Be that as it may, he shouldn't have to deal with this on his own." Mrs. Weasley said.

"Come on, mum. It's Harry. If he needs help, he can always ask me . . . or Hermione, if he needs a text book reference." Ron said.

"RON!"

Harry grinned to himself and decided this would be a good time to come back to dinner.

"What did Ron do this time, Hermione?" he asked as he pushed the door open.

They all jumped and looked guilty for a second.

"I didn't do anything!" Ron's ears were red.

Ginny snorted. "That's right. Poor, misunderstood Ronald always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It isn't his fault that he has the tendency to blame things on others."

Harry grinned at Ginny, who blushed. Dear God, not that again. I have enough to worry about without Ginny getting all weird on me again. He thought with an internal sigh.

The tension was still there but more subdued. The rest of dinner was quiet, Harry and the other help Mrs. Weasley clear the table after dinner.

Now was the time Harry was both anticipating and dreading.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny followed him to his room and once the door was locked and they were all seated (Harry on his bed, Ginny leaning against his desk with Hermione on the chair next to her, and Ron was next to Harry on the bed) the questions started.

"So . . . what happened?" Ron asked finally.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"The beginning would be nice." Ginny said. Harry shot her a glare before sighing.

"Fine. Well . . . Voldemort kidnapped me at the Ministry, I dunno why." He knew he couldn't tell them about the horcruxes. "He kept me at Malfoy Manor and tortured me on a daily bases." Hermione had her hand over her mouth. "He wanted me to join him, I refused so he tortured me. After around two weeks I was too weak to resist . . . he put me in some sort of trance and forced me into something like Unbreakable Vow."

"B-but Harry, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow!" Ron was pale as a sheet now.

"Really, Ron? I never could've figured that out on my own." Harry said sarcastically. Ron gave him an odd look. "What did he make you promise?"

"That I'd do what he said . . . and become a Death Eater."

What?" all three of them gasped at the same time. It would've been comical in any other situation.

"I didn't have a choice! He had me under the Imperious Curse or something!" Harry tried to explain.

"Does Dumbledore know?" Hermione asked.

"I imagine he does, Snape was there and—"

"Wait, Snape?" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah, I think he's under cover for Dumbledore."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because . . . I don't know. When Voldemort tortured me, Snape was the one charged with patching me up. If Voldemort wasn't in the room he would tell me to hold on . . . that Dumbledore was trying hard as he could." Harry wasn't sure what to think about Snape anymore. He'd been a source of comfort while he was being held prisoner, but now Snape seemed to hate him more than ever. Harry was more concerned with the fact that Snape knew he was a Death Eater and would tell Dumbledore. What would Dumbledore do if he found out?

Harry went on to tell them how he was rescued and spent the last month at 12 Grimmuald Place. He told them that he was basically a Death Eater now, he was afraid they'd hate him.

"He made an Unbreakable Vow. He can't hurt any of my loved ones or any muggles. Those were my conditions." Harry was watching his friend's faces, waiting for them to explode.

Hermione surprised him by hugging him. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Wha—why are you sorry? I'm the one that betrayed everyone." Harry mumbled.

"You didn't betray us, Harry. You were trying to protect us." Ginny had moved to the bed and was hugging him to. This was not what he'd been expecting.

"Yeah, mate. It's like you told Vo-Voldemort, you may be sworn to him, but that doesn't mean you're his puppet." Ron said.

Harry gapped at him. "You said Voldemort."

"Yeah, well. Fear of the name only makes you more scared of the thing itself or whatever it is Hermione always says." Ron shrugged.

Hermione smiled at him.

"So . . . you guys aren't mad at me?"

"How could we be mad at you? You were protecting us."

Harry gave them a sad smile.

"Malfoy's a Death Eater too." Harry suddenly remembered.

"Draco Malfoy? What would Voldemort want with him?" Hermione asked, stumbling over Voldemort slightly.

"I dunno. But I plan on finding out." Harry said.

"So you plan on just letting him run round the Castle and report to the Dark Lord? It was bad enough when he was still your Golden Boy, Dumbledore! He isn't anymore." Snape growled.

"I trust that Harry will not turn on me fully, Severus. He knows Voldemort is using him, and eventually he will come back. Harry is a good person at heart; we must trust that his instincts will not lead him astray." Dumbledore stated calmly.

"Your trust in him astounds me." Snape grumbled.

"He did not tell Voldemort that I was seeking out his horcruxes."

"That reminds me, how is your arm?" Snape asked.

"The poison is still contained, but I feel weaker every day, unfortunately. I fear you were correct to say I won't last the year. I am indeed dying, Severus."

Snape stayed quiet.

"Watch Harry, Severus. Make sure he keeps out of trouble."

"I am not a babysitter, Dumbledore." Snape glared coldly at the old man.

"Just look after him, Severus."

"Alright, so we need to go to Flourish and Blotts next." Hermione said. They'd just walked out of Gringott's.

"I want to visit Fred and George's shop first," Ron said. "Harry?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want to go to Flourish and Blotts or the joke shop first?" Ginny asked.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies, I need more polish for my broom." Harry grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That wasn't a choice, Harry."

"Well how about this. You can to Flourish and Blotts, Ron can go to Fred and George's, and Harry and I will go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. I need new clippers anyway." Ginny suggested.

"I don't know, I don't think we should split up." Hermione said.

"Oh come on, Hermione. You-Know-Who isn't going to hide behind the bookshelves at Flourish and Blotts!" Ron droned.

"Oh, fine!" Hermione stormed off in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. Ron went in the way of the joke shop.

Harry turned and grinned at Ginny. "Quality Quidditch Supplies it is."

Harry didn't notice that the usually busy streets of Diagon Alley were almost deserted. If he had, he might have realized something was off.

Ginny and Harry proceeded to Quality Quidditch Supplies, bought their things and were walking to Fred and George's joke shop when they heard the screaming. It was coming from behind them. They shared a look before turning and sprinting in the direction of the screaming.

Ron and Hermione stood in the middle of a circle of Death Eaters, pale but unharmed. They looked at Harry with panicked eyes. Harry felt rage burn through him.

He stepped straight up to Bellatrix, who was smiling, and pulled his wand on her.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry growled.

Bellatrix's smile widened. "Making a point."

She turned to Hermione. "Imperio!" Hermione's eyes glazed over and she took out her wand and pointed it at Ron.

"You can't do that! Voldemort made a Vow!" Harry glared at Bellatrix.

"He vowed they wouldn't be harmed. They are unharmed, are they not?" Bellatrix cackled.

"The Dark Lord wishes you to know that he does not appreciate your telling your secret. He wants you to Obliviate them. Personally."

"I'm not going to Obliviate my friends." Harry said firmly.

"Granger, curse me." Hermione turned and sent a stunning spell at Bellatrix, which she easily sidestepped. She sent the Cruciatus Curse at Hermione. She crumpled to the ground screaming.

"Hey!"

"We can defend ourselves if they make the first move, Potter!" Bellatrix cackled.

"Bombarda!" Harry yelled. The stones at Bellatrix's feet exploded, the chips flying up and scratching her in several places. "If you hurt her again I swear I won't miss next time." Harry snarled.

The curse stopped and Ron ran to crouch next to Hermione.

"There are always loopholes, Potter. Remember that. Now Obliviate them before I'm forced to. If I have to, I'll be very angry." Bellatrix smirked.

Harry told her to go do something to herself that was humanly impossible.

Bellatrix scowled before turning to Ginny and screaming "Obliviate!"

She repeated it with Ron and Hermione before turning back to Harry. She smirked again. "Loopholes Potter. Remember. And don't tell your little friends about personal matters again. Master would like you to know that he will be seeing you tonight." And with that the Death Eaters were gone.

Harry was left with three confused friends, and one thought in his mind.

Why me?

So nice long chapter. My longest, actually. Anyway thanks again for all of the input on the conclusion. Harry's not dark yet, but he'll start taking steps in that direction after next chapter, so something traumatic is going to happen.

Here's where I need your help! What should this traumatic event that pushes Harry toward the Dark side be? I would really like some help! I'll give credit where it is do, so you'll get a shout-out and thanks if I really like your idea and use it :)

Anyway review and I won't take as long to update as I did this time, promise! Don't forget to submit an idea if you want it in the story! PMing or sending it through a review is fine :)


	13. Chapter 13

HEY! EVERYONE READ THIS! IT"S IMPORTANT!

ok, so is giving me a really hard time updating chapter 15. so the only thing i could see to do was start a Part Two as the second story on my profile.

i don't even know if doc manager will give an alert on this, but if it does, than Story Alert part 2 to keep up. i'm really sorry guys!

Hey, guys! Told you I'd update soon! Anyways thanks to all of you who reviewed and gave me ideas. Most of you wanted to kill of one of Harry's friends, which I can't do, I'll need them later.

Amanda2308: Voldemort never told Harry not to tell anyone, or if he did than I'm sorry, I guess I need to go back and read this so I don't keep making mistakes. Anyway, no Harry didn't break the Vow.

nickyx3: I know, I know. I Obliviated them because it's just not possible for them to know. Too much of a risk that one of them would make a slip and tell someone. Also, Voldemort wants Harry to feel alienated. So I'm sorry, but Harry and Co. are going through a rough time right now, it has to happen that way.

EmeraldWings90: I wouldn't say he'll be hostile toward Dumbledore; it'll be more like his view of him from Deathly Hallows. And as for the light pushing him, I'm not saying they were wrong to do it, but they were pushing him. Or more the situation was. He's the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, no one really asked what Harry thought about any of it, they just expected him to do everything. So can you see how he might feel pressured or like he was pushed into doing things?

A special thanks to AzraelLilith for the awesome review and the inspiration for this chapter!

I'm super psyched for this chapter guys, really. I couldn't wait to write it! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: this is my last disclaimer, it's entailed. I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: minor character death

Harry was laying on top his bed, his back pressed against the mattress, his legs pulled up, his arm hanging over the side. He hated his life. He tried to do the right thing and it ended up getting Hermione tortured and all of his friends Obliviated. He sighed. Why do I even try? All that happens is that he gets someone hurt.

It's my fault; I hadn't told them Hermione would've been fine right now. I wouldn't have to lie to them more to cover everything up.

He'd been forced to tell his friends he didn't remember what happened. He told them he had no idea why Hermione felt like she'd been tortured or why there was a hole in the middle of the road. And he felt terrible.

His scar had been throbbing since that morning and Harry was dreading having to face Voldemort. He could feel Voldemort's emotions much more clearly since making the Blood Vow and he'd gotten used to the dark feeling lingering in the back of his mind.

What scared him was that he didn't just feel pain and sense the emotion anymore. He actually felt it. When Voldemort was angry it took all of his will not to smash something against the wall. When he was happy it was hard not to laugh out loud. This terrified him. Voldemort was controlling him without even trying to!

Why was he so weak? He'd tried Occlumency but found it was nearly impossible to block Voldemort's emotions out. Voldemort had taken that stupid locket off him when the Order came to "rescue" him. Not that it did any bloody good. Voldemort had all the access to Harry he could possibly want.

Harry doubted that the Order knew how easily Voldemort could just pop in and grab him. And Harry wouldn't put it past him to do just that. Just to spite the Order.

I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life.

Harry felt another swell of rage burn through him and tried to bite down on it. This was worse than most of the attacks. Harry sat up and put his head in his hands, taking deep breaths and counting to ten. It did absolutely nothing.

He couldn't take this anymore! He grabbed the picture frame from the bedside table. It was the photo of Remus, Sirius, Peter Pettigrew, and his father. He chucked it at the opposite wall and watched as it shattered.

"Why did you have to join the freaking Order!" he screamed. Harry realized he was crying. He hastily wiped the tears away and walked across the room to pick up the mess he'd made.

I make a mess of everything. He thought bitterly.

He picked up a piece of broken glass. It cut him. "Perfect! Just damn fucking perfect!" he growled as he wiped his bleeding hand on his jeans. He sat against the wall with his head in his hands.

That's how Mrs. Weasley found him.

Molly Weasley was bustling around in the kitchen cooking dinner when she heard the crash and yell directly above her head. That was Harry's room. Harry! She flew up the stairs. The door flung open with a flick of her wand and she entered with her wand raised. . .

To find Harry sitting against the wall with his head in his hands, quiet sobs shaking his thin frame. Glass was littered around the floor at his feet and Molly saw that his hand was bleeding. She was confused until she saw the broken picture frame lying next to him.

She silently walked over and leaned down next to him, pulling the crying boy into a tight hug. He didn't react at first, than he slowly hugged her back. She didn't know what any of this was about, and frankly she didn't care. Harry was family, and he needed to know he wasn't alone. He needed someone to show him.

Harry was a strong person. But he was still a child. A child that had been through too much. He'd lost so many people he cared about, and blamed it on himself. He'd been kidnapped, tortured, and observed as if he was an interesting specimen under a microscope (A/N: do wizards use microscopes?) for years.

Harry slowly stopped crying and pulled away from Mrs. Weasley, embarrassed. He'd completely lost it. Mrs. Weasley looked at him sympathetically.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Why did Voldemort have to mess with his emotions?

"You look tired, hon. You should go to bed." Mrs. Weasley helped him up and pushed him gently toward the bed. He nodded and sat down on the bed.

As Molly turned to leave, she heard a quiet, "Thank You."

She turned back and smiled softly at him. "Of course, Harry."

As she left all Harry could think was, "I'm a terrible person for betraying them."

Him exhaustion finally caught up with him and Harry fell into a troubled sleep.

Harry wasn't sure what made him wake. He didn't think he'd had a nightmare. So what was it? Harry slipped out of bed quietly and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He walked across the floor, wincing every time the old house creaked. As he closed the door behind him he considered using Lumos but decided against it.

He crept down the hallway. suddenly a hand shot out and covered his mouth; another hand pulled him into a room. He struggled until a familiar voice muttered in his ear. "Will you stop struggling, Potter? It's me."

Harry went still and the person let go of him. he turned and glared at the person. "What the hell, Snape?"

"That would be Professor Snape to you, Potter. And the Dark Lord would like to see you." Harry paled considerably. At least he's smart enough to realize he's in trouble. Snape thought.

"Fine. Hold on, I don't want to face Voldemort in my night clothes." Harry muttered and left for his room. He struggled into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, throwing his black Hogwarts robe over it.

He met Snape outside and they apparated straight into Malfoy Manor's parlor. Oh hell, this is just like my nightmare. Harry thought as he saw Voldemort throw himself out of an armchair and stalk toward them.

Snape bowed, pulling Harry with him—he'd been frozen in fear—and muttered, "My Lord."

Voldemort didn't spare him a glance. He was glaring at Harry as he growled, "You may go, Severus. Wait outside." Snape nodded and with one last hesitant glance at Harry, he left.

"Get up." Voldemort's voice was suddenly deadly calm, and that made Harry even more nervous. He stood warily, his eyes on his feet. He couldn't look Voldemort in the eye. It felt like a small victory toward Voldemort.

Voldemort stalked forward and grabbed Harry's chin, forcing his head up. Harry hesitantly met Voldemort's eyes and flinched. He'd never seen Voldemort look more angry, not even when he'd escaped the graveyard in his fourth year.

Voldemort studied Harry's face. He noticed that all the color was gone from his face and he was unable to meet his gaze for more than a moment. Though he tried to hide it, he was petrified. He was trembling and his body tense.

"You should not have told your friends, Harry." His blazing crimson eyes met startled green ones and held them there. Harry—if possible—got even paler and he trembled more violently.

Harry's knees buckled and he collapsed, Voldemort did nothing to stop him. his knees hit the floor hard and Harry couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his lips. He stayed on the floor, not that he had much choice. He felt Voldemort's will keeping him on the ground, kneeling at his feet.

He watched through his fringe of black hair as Voldemort paced next to him. "What am I to do, Harry, if I cannot trust you to keep secrets to yourself? You understand you must be punished, don't you?"

He heard himself mumble, "Yes, Master."

"I think it is time you learn what it is to be my servant, Harry."

Harry looked up at Voldemort.

He was smiling.

He ordered Harry to get up and led him down a staircase to the cellar. Harry shivered as memories attacked him. They entered the pitch black room and Voldemort shut the door behind him.

"Lumos."Voldemort muttered, casting an eerie bluish-white light around the damp cellar.

In the middle or the room were two chairs. In those two chair figures slumped against them, chains holding them to it. There was a person standing behind them, hidden in shadow.

Harry gasped as he recognized one of the figures slumped in the chair. His arms and hands were covered in old burn scars. His face was bloody. He was broad-shouldered with pale skin and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose . . . and fiery red hair.

"Charlie!" Harry whispered. He was beaten and bruised, but it was definitely him. The oldest Weasley boy. He'd met him last year. Charlie jerked awake, he'd been unconscious.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" his voice was a weak croak.

Harry couldn't answer. Voldemort wouldn't let him. he pursed his lips and turned to look at the other, much smaller figure in the other chair.

It was a little girl. She appeared to be unharmed, save for a bruise on her cheek in the vague shape of a hand. She was clearly a muggle. She had ash blonde hair and wide, terrified brown eyes. She couldn't be more than six.

He turned back to Voldemort, horrified.

"I am giving you a choice, Harry. In front of you is an acquaintance or yours, Charles Weasley, I believe he prefers Charlie. Also in front of you is a muggle child. Your choice is this; you must kill one of them of your own free will. If you do not, I will force you to kill them both. Whoever you choose to kill will be guaranteed a quick death with the Killing Curse—yes, you will use the Killing Curse, Harry—and the other may go free. However if you refuse to kill one of them of your own accord, you will torture both of them until they die."

"Th-that's sick! I-I can't kill them! Charlie is protected by the Vow, he's a Weasley. The little girl is to! She's a muggle!" Harry yelled.

"Our agreement was that I wouldn't kill a Weasley, and I won't. You would kill him Harry, not me."

"On your orders!"

"But I would not be personally harming him. Neither would one of my true servants. You are loyal to me only because of the Vow. You are a terrible negotiator, Harry."

"But the little girl is a muggle! She can't die because of you or your Death Eaters!" Harry argued.

"The agreement was that muggles would not be killed for sport. She would not die for sport." Voldemort explained calmly.

"You've been playing me." Harry growled.

"Of course, Harry." Voldemort smiled. "So, Harry, what'll it be? Weasley or the muggle? Or will you kill them both slowly, painfully."

He glanced pleadingly at Voldemort, who laughed. Harry turned to Charlie and the little girl.

"Ah, but Harry, there is one more choice." Voldemort murmured into his ear.

"What is it?" Harry snapped without turning around.

The person standing behind them stepped into the light. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Kill Bellatrix. You hate her, don't you? She's tortured and killed hundreds of innocents. She killed your Godfather, she deserves it." Voldemort whispered.

Harry was shaking violently. He did hate Bellatrix Lestrange. It was her fault Sirius was dead. He hated her with every fiber of his being. But he couldn't kill her in cold blood.

"I can't." he mumbled. He felt tears roll down his face. He didn't care enough to wipe them away.

"You can, Harry. I can feel how much you loathe her. And you would be saving innocents. Why would you kill innocents when someone who deserves to die is standing in front of them? I am being merciful, Harry. Kill her; she deserves it for what she did to you."

Bellatrix watched her master whisper things to Potter, not bothering to listen. She wasn't worried. Her master wouldn't let anything happen to his most faithful servant. She noticed the boy was shaking and crying, his eyes darting between her and the filth tied to the chairs behind her.

But she was surprised to see the boy raise his wand and point it at her, but he wasn't looking at her. He dropped it back to his side after a moment. The weakling. What was her master doing? He seemed to be egging Potter on. What was going on? Her master wouldn't have the boy kill her!

Potter finally looked her in the eye and Bellatrix froze. His emerald eyes were cold and blank. His arm was steady as he raised his wand and growled the two words that she'd never expected to come out of Harry Potter's mouth.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched as the green jet of light shot from the tip of his wand and his Bellatrix in the chest. She crumpled. Charlie was looking at him in horror. The little muggle girl looked confused but terrified.

"Good, Harry. How did it feel?"

"I didn't feel anything." Harry said quietly. He felt no pleasure at killing Bellatrix, but no remorse either. He felt empty.

"That's alright. It takes time to learn to enjoy it." Voldemort said. He hid the happiness well, but Harry could still feel it. It didn't change the emptiness, it was swallowed by it. Harry felt dead.

"Kill the other two."

Harry's head shot up. "What?"

"Kill the other two. They have seen too much. Weasley would tell the Order and the girl is scarred. It would be a mercy to kill her." Voldemort said matter-of-factly.

"No," Harry muttered.

"Do I have to make you, Harry?" the danger in his tone was clear. "You can kill them quickly or they can be tortured to death. You felt nothing when you killed Bellatrix. This will be the same."

"No, it won't." Harry said. "They're innocent."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched.

"Why doesn't my scar hurt anymore?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I am no longer a danger to you." Voldemort said simply. "Stop delaying things, Harry. Kill them."

Harry felt the command wash over him. Not enough to make him listen, more of a warning.

Harry raised his wand shakily, pointing at Charlie. "I'm so sorry, Charlie." He whispered. Charlie didn't look scared, he looked pityingly at Harry. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he knew Harry was being forced to kill him. Harry was being merciful, making sure it was quick.

"It's ok, Harry."

Harry looked him in the eye, and saw that Charlie really did forgive him.

"Avada Kedavra!" he muttered. Charlie slumped in his chair. He could've been asleep. He'd closed his eyes the moment before Harry spoke the spell.

"Avada Kedavra!" he heard from behind him. he turned away as Voldemort killed the girl. He couldn't watch that.

"I hate you." Harry muttered to Voldemort.

Voldemort only smiled.

"It will get easier. You'll get to the point where you don't care. I am only trying to help you, Harry. It is better to get your first kill over with."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Harry mumbled.

Voldemort left him sitting on the floor taking deep breaths, trying not to cry or be sick.

Eventually Snape came into the cellar.

He saw Harry sitting on the floor trying not to have a panic attack, he was almost hyperventilating. He saw the dead body of Bellatrix Lestrange on the floor. As well as the bodies or Charlie Weasley and the muggle girl.

He sighed. "Potter, you need to calm down. Give me your wand."

Harry looked up. "Why?"

"I need to erase the evidence that you used an Unforgivable."

Harry handed over his wand.

"Deletrius!" Snape muttered.

"Come on, Potter. Let's get you home."

Wow, that was long! What did you guys think? Sorry I killed off Bellatrix, but she seemed a likely candidate for Harry to kill willingly. I'm sorry I killed Charlie! I needed someone Harry knew and had a connection to, so Harry would feel the guilt later. Poor little girl. So yeah, I killed a lot of people.

Review and thanks to everyone who reviewed. Again, thanks to AzraelLilith for the inspiration for this chapter.

I got Deletrius from wikipedia.

Until next time.

-Ginny


	14. Chapter 14

**.GOD! Hi, everyone! Are you all pissed off at me? Please don't be, it honestly wasn't my fault! I swear! Ok, so first the stupid website decided it wanted to make my life hell, so it wouldn't let me upload the freaking chapter. In my defense, I had this chapter ready a month ago, so blame ! Then my computer decided it would be great fun to crash. So then I had to get a new computer. Said new computer didn't have my chapters saved so I had to re-write this. Then I had to go deal with the rubbish (hehe like my British word?) that was keeping me from updating. But I'm back and you won't have to deal with waiting for a month ever again! (Hopefully).**

**I apologize in advance for any spelling, grammar, or punctuation mistakes in the next few chapters. I got a new keyboard and it's . . .**_** newness **_**is screwing up my typing.**

**Warning: there is some material in this chapter some may find twisted and/or sick**

**So without further ado . . . CHAPTER 15!**

Harry Potter was lost.

He seemed to be in a small clearing . . . was he in the Forbidden Forest? The lush green foliage certainly reminded him of the forest that seemed to just _love_ getting him into trouble. Between the acromantulas, thestrals, the Dark Lord himself and countless other less than pleasant creatures he'd met in there, it was amazing he didn't avoid the place like the plague. _But I guess that's why I'm not a Hufflepuff_, he thought to himself. He wasn't quite sure how he ended up there and he honestly didn't care to find out.

And then there was the fact that Charlie Weasley was sitting across from him.

He didn't look different in death. He was still broad-shouldered, flaming haired, and burned from his time working with dragons. He wore simple drab brown robes with patches sewn into them. He looked quite bored sitting there waiting for Harry to . . . to what?

"Charlie?" Harry asked cautiously.

Charlie grinned at him with a smile uncannily like the twins' and nodded. "Hey, Harry."

"But . . . you're dead."

"Yup, seems I am." Charlie grinned.

"But . . . then . . . . why are you here? Are you like a ghost?" it seemed unlikely. Harry had only known Charlie briefly, but he didn't seem the type to haunt Hogwarts.

"Oh God, no! I've moved on. Well, I will, but I want to tell you something first."

"What is it?" Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

"You need to move on too." Charlie said simply.

"What?"

"You're going to beat yourself up about my death. Don't."

"But I killed you!" Harry was having trouble rounding in his emotions now. "I killed you." He whispered.

"Out of mercy, Harry. Not hatred. Not cold blood. Not pleasure. There _is_ a difference, believe me. Voldemort would've forced you to torture me and the little girl. It was better for both of us." Charlie shrugged.

"But if I wasn't so stupid none of this would've happened! Voldemort wouldn't have lured me into the Ministry. Sirius wouldn't have come after me. He wouldn't be dead. Tonks wouldn't be at St. Mungo's right now. Voldemort wouldn't have figured out I was a horcrux. None of this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such a complete _bloody idiot_."

"That's a lot of 'ifs' and 'if onlys' Harry. It happened. It's done. No one will know what would've happened if you hadn't gone to save Sirius. No use crying over spilled potions, mate." Charlie said, serious now.

"But . . ." Harry trailed off.

"If you want to make it up to me—make it up to Sirius—do the right thing."

"What?"

"In the end. When this war seems hopeless, do the right thing." Charlie said.

"What's the right thing?" Harry asked desperately.

"I think you know, Harry." Charlie answered.

"But I don't! I'm not sure what's right anymore, Charlie! That's the whole point! Is what Voldemort wants _so_ wrong? He wants peace for the Wizarding World. He wants to not have to hide from muggles, to be respected. Is that really so wrong?"

"It's not always the things we strive for that are wrong, Harry. Sometimes it's the _way_ we strive for them. Is it alright to kill thousands to save dozens?"

"No . . . but it's still wrong to just let those dozens die."

Charlie smiled at him. "You really are naïve aren't you?" he sighed. "Look Harry, when the time comes, just do the right thing, ok? You'll know what you need to do when the time comes."

He started walking toward the edge of the clearing. Harry, dumbfounded, watched as he disappeared into the trees.

"Oh, and one more thing Harry? If you even _think_ about snogging my sister anytime in the near future, I _will_ come back as a ghost and haunt you until you're driven mad and committed."

And with that Harry was left alone in the middle of the clearing with his jaw on the dry, dusty ground.

Harry opened his eyes to his bedroom at Grimmuald Place. Part of him hoped in vain that everything had been only a nightmare. That he hadn't killed Charlie. He still couldn't bring himself to feel remorse for Bellatrix. She'd killed too many innocents for him to regret killing her. But Charlie's death twisted his stomach and made him dread coming into contact with any of the Weasleys.

How could he face Mrs. Weasley—who treated him as her son—when he'd killed her son? How could he call Ron his best friend when he'd pointed his wand at Charlie and spoken the two words that had ended his life?

The doorbell rang downstairs.

He heard a door down the hall open and the soft padding of Mrs. Weasley as she went to answer the door. Curious, Harry slipped out of his room and followed her. Who would be ringing the doorbell?

All of the Order members could enter any time they liked. Muggles couldn't see 13 Grimmuald Place.

The assessment ran icy fingers down his spine.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had followed him out of their rooms, Gryffindor curiosity piqued. So they all heard the terrified scream as Mrs. Weasley opened the front door.

Harry stopped dead, letting the others pass him. They all reacted the same way Mrs. Weasley had. Ginny was sobbing into Mrs. Weasley's chest. Ron was white as a sheet. Silent tears ran down Hermione's face.

For the first time Harry James Potter wanted to run away. For the first time he wanted to turn around and run from something. And he did.

Because Charlie Weasley's corpse was lying on the front steps. And carved into the pale skin of his arm were the words

_The first kill is always the hardest_

**So, yeah. I warned you. This story can be kind of sick. This is the worst it will get, so PLEASE don't flag me. I'm sorry—once again—for not updating in so long. Please review!**

**Ok, guys, I need your help again. Anyone with the least bit of ability to write a song for the Sorting Hat next chapter, please PM me! Seriously, I can't rhyme for some reason. I will give credit to whoever writes it by singing your praises and (extra bonus!) you'll get a sneak-peek at what's to come in the seventh horcrux! Nothing to revealing, just enough to write a song about.**

**And extra challenge! Anyone who can correctly guess my age gets a sneak peek of a major chapter that will be coming up! I've already told you I'm in high school, so please no "you're a twenty-four year old college writing student". I'm obviously somewhere between fourteen and eighteen years old.**

**And also, i feel insanely bad for not updating, so i'm releasing the first chapter of my new Harry Potter story, A Twist in Destiny, later today, hopefully. i can juggle both stories plus i'm really psyched for this story!**

**Thank you, and good night!**


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